


We Are Legend

by idrilhadhafang



Series: The Daughter of The Suns [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, NaNoWriMo 2014, Psychological Torture, Torture, mara as obi-wan and sabe's daughter, redeemed obi-wan kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the Battle of Yavin IV, Mara Lars Kenobi and her friends in the Rebel Alliance continue their fight against the evil Galactic Empire,  as Mara begins her training and Terminus and Vader their re-training, Han and company flee the Empire, and an enraged Palpatine stops at nothing to destroy the Alliance, as well as Mara and the others. And in the meanwhile, Asajj Ventress, sent to stop Han and the hapless crew of the Millennium Falcon, has an agenda of her own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Ventress recovers from Han shooting her out of the sky, makes new friends, kills her old crew, and gets back to Coruscant to meet with the Emperor, who has recovered from a nasty trip to Moriband (previously known as Korriban. Stupid name changes...).
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, here we go. I hope this is as good as the previous installments; I confess I was pretty nervous writing this. The whole thing with Ventress on Vaal is taken from the comics. Also, I hope I didn't portray Ventress too much like Vader from the Original Trilogy.

Asajj Ventress, who had been raised by Emperor Palpatine and the Sith since she was no more than a mere child, and had been trained in the ways of the Force for an equal amount of time, knew that the Emperor would not be happy about her failure at Yavin. In fact, she knew, it would be the exact opposite. Even as she looked about the strange planet she had now found herself on, some sort of warm, grassy planet that seemed peaceful enough, except, Ventress knew, it was also a ferocious place, full of predators and danger – she could sense it in the Force – she knew full well that the Empire had suffered their first major loss in the war.  
  
They had been at war with the Rebels for quite some time. Despite the fact that the Rebels were indeed still a threat, the Empire had managed to crush them at every turn. It was mostly the discovery of the Death Star plans, and what had possibly happened with them, that had been the most worrying to the Emperor and the Empire as a whole, especially considering that if the full weaknesses of the Death Star were discovered, it could prove to be a major turning point for the Rebels. Their greatest weapon, turned against them, at least, Ventress thought wryly, if Motti and Tagge didn’t somehow manage to destroy the Empire first.  
  
The Emperor putting the Death Star in the hands of those imbeciles was perhaps one of his greatest mistakes. The Emperor in general – Ventress could not say that she had much love for him. He seemed to care nothing in terms of the Sith and the Empire, for how much he proclaimed that he did. Had he ever? Or had he even used the matter of the Sith in order to perpetuate his own goals?  
  
The Emperor had never been a man of sanity, but as the war had gone on, it seemed as if whatever was left of his sanity had completely gone.  
  
Ventress looked around the grassy savannahs of Vaal. It was a beautiful place, it was said, but also quite dangerous. She could sense the wild animals that still lurked in the underbrush, waiting for her, waiting to pounce at her. She would need to be cautious.  
For now, it seemed, the best she could do was try to find the nearest outpost and leave. Even getting there, however, would no doubt be a problem.  
And it was.  
  
It was the hyenax that attacked her. Vicious creatures, almost akin to the kath hounds of Dantooine themselves, except for their dark brown fur that grew along their backs and neck, skin streaked deep with black, and long, curving claws. Even as they lunged at her, however, Ventress managed to fight them off all too easily. She could not help but be almost filled with scorn at their efforts. After all, what were they against a Dark Jedi, one with mastery of the Force, small as it was next to, for example, Lord Sidious or Vader or even Terminus, weakened as he was? What were they against any Sith, or even any Jedi?  
  
The hyenax, from what Ventress had read, were hierarchial creatures. So when they appeared later in the evening, when Ventress was still tending to her wounds, Ventress could not say that she was exactly surprised, especially when they laid the pack leader’s body, whom Ventress had killed earlier, at Ventress’ feet. It meant, she could only assume, that she was now the leader of their pack.  
  
They would be useful to the Empire as a whole. This Ventress knew. The Empire needed all the allies that they could have in this war against the Rebels. Obedience would be duly rewarded, and failure – Ventress knew full well that failure would be punished. That was the way of the Sith.  
  
Heading towards the outpost, the creatures at her back, Ventress found the nearest outpost, perhaps the only real sign of civilization in a savannah world that seemed to stretch out for miles. She had seen planets like this before, and had been to harsher planets – indeed, her homeworld of Rattatak, from the few memories that she had of it, was one of the harshest planets in the galaxy. A dry world, almost akin to Korriban in its atmosphere, where gladiator games made up the government, and where infighting amongst her people was quite common. Her old home of Dathomir…she could not say she had many memories of it. Indeed, when she tried to recall memories of Dathomir, she couldn’t. It was almost akin to attempting to grasp empty air. She could remember images of her biological parents, and feelings, but nothing more than that. Merely impressions, as impossible to grasp as empty air.  
  
But now was not the time to reminisce.  
  
As Ventress entered the outpost, she could hear the faint sounds of chatter. Reybn, the leader of this lowly expedition to Vaal, before Ventress had been sent to Yavin if only to attempt to deal with the Rebels, saying, “…and I’m telling you, I never thought I’d say this, but I think being stationed on Vaal was the best thing that could possibly happen to me. I mean – look at this place! It’s beautiful!”  
  
Ventress narrowed her eyes. So apparently, Reybn and the others were more content to lay back, to sunbathe and chatter and sightsee instead of doing actual work for the Empire.  
  
The faint sounds of chatter died down as Ventress entered, and Reybn looked up, smiled a sort of smile that was probably supposed to be charming, but instead just angered Ventress further. “My Lady,” he said, “It’s good to see you. We were just, well…”  
  
“You weren’t doing work, were you?” Ventress said.  
  
Reybn was practically falling all over himself in order to justify what he was doing. “Listen, I can explain; we were stationed on Vaal too long – ’’  
  
“Indeed?” Ventress said. “If I didn’t know better, I would say that you were enjoying yourself, Sergeant. This is a military operation, a military mission – this is not shore leave. Do you understand that?”  
  
“Well – ’’  
  
“I have had quite enough of you,” Ventress said. “You claim to be loyal to the Empire and its cause, and yet here you are, sitting around sunbathing and sightseeing instead of doing what needs to be done. Instead of filing reports, you see this as nothing more than a vacation. It appears that the Emperor had assembled the wrong crew.”  
  
Behind her, the hyenax snarled.  
  
Reybn’s eyes widened. “What are those things?”  
  
“Those are hyenax,” Ventress said. “My new allies. It appears that your work is finished here, Sergeant. All of you have failed the Empire for the last time.”  
  
The hyenax attacked, and for all Reybn and the others shot at them, the hyenax were ruthless, tearing them apart almost as if they were prey that the hyenax would hunt in the savannahs. Reybn’s screams of pain (interlaced with pleas for mercy that both Ventress and the hyenax duly ignored) were quickly drowned out by the hyenax’s growls and snarls of fury. At last, when Reybn lay dead, his Imperial uniform soaked with blood, along with the others, and the hyenax’s mouths were stained with blood and the bits of skin and cloth that they managed to rip away from the soldiers, Ventress turned towards them.  
  
“You have done well,” she said. “I only hope that you will continue to do as well in the future. Remember that obedience to me and the Empire will be duly rewarded, and failure will be duly punished.”  
  
The hyenax snarled assent.  
  
Ventress boarded the shuttle and headed towards Coruscant. She knew full well that the Emperor would not be pleased with her failure at Yavin, but whatever happened, she would face the Emperor’s wrath. What she had done, after all – it had been her failing, in a way, not being able to kill the girl, Mara Lars. Terminus had become bizarrely obsessed with her. Was it perhaps because she had managed to cut off his leg in her first confrontation with him? He definitely seemed to act like it, although perhaps there was something more to it. Terminus had been long dissatisfied with the Emperor – something that Ventress and Vader both could not quite blame him for – and perhaps with Mara, the girl – perhaps, in a way, he felt as if he could have a second chance.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
Ventress almost wished that she could go with Terminus and Vader both, but she knew full well that her place was here, with the Empire, serving the Emperor and its people. It had been what she had been trained to do since she was but a small child. It was her duty, and she would fulfill it to the last.  
  
As the shuttle docked on Coruscant, Ventress headed out towards the glittering cities. Coruscant was indeed beautiful, although she would admit that at times, she was overwhelmed by how large it could be. Even her homeworld of Rattatak had not been as massive. She could not help but marvel at how far the city extended, the speeders that headed around the city, the glittering buildings and neon signs.  
  
Coruscant itself had remained as it always was, in terms of the glory it possessed – in terms of its loyalties, it now lay under the Empire, and the Emperor had not necessarily done things if only to improve those in the slums below; he had spoken of it, of course, but he had never quite gotten around to it. Indeed, the only truly positive thing that Ventress could really say was that they managed to eliminate slavery on Tatooine, and that was mostly due to Vader’s work. Ventress could understand why Vader would want to do such a thing, especially considering his former status as a slave, and what he had seen there.  
  
Vader had not often spoken of his status of a slave, but it colored much of what he did, and how he saw things. Even thinking about it, the rare moments he had spoken of it (not to others, mostly to Ventress and Terminus, who he trusted most), Ventress could not help but be outraged by it. Who would treat a child like that? Watto had been kinder than his previous owner, Gardulla, but that didn’t really say much.  
  
 _“I don’t exactly forgive them,”_ Vader had said,  _“And I don’t necessarily forget._ ”  
  
Which was, no doubt, a good thing. Forgiveness was not a thing of the Sith. The Jedi, perhaps, with their insistence on rising above such “base” emotions such as vengeance, but in the end, what fueled what they did if not their passion? Anger, hatred, aggression, a desire for power, desire – those were dark emotions, yes, but they were nonetheless necessary if only to keep the Sith strong. To keep them going in every word and every deed, to strengthen them through every battle that they faced, to make sure that they never faltered. That no matter how many enemies they faced, they emerged victorious.  
  
Ahead was the Commander, a strong, self-assured man with features that reminded Ventress almost of a noble. He bowed as Ventress approached. “My Lady,” he said, “It is good that you are here. I believed you had perished on Yavin.”  
  
“I am hard to kill,” said Ventress. “The crash-landing on Vaal was difficult at first, but I managed to make it to the outpost.”  
  
“I see,” said the Commander. “And the hyenax? What of them?”  
  
“I will bring them to the Emperor,” said Ventress. “We will take time if only to train them, but it can be done. They have accepted their new leader too well.”  
  
The Commander raised an eyebrow. “You slew their leader? That is…impressive, my lady.”  
  
“I did,” Ventress said. “But there is no time for talk, Commander. I must speak with the Emperor.”  
  
“It may take a while,” the Commander said.  
  
Ventress raised an eyebrow. “Will it?”  
  
“He’s in a bacta tank at the moment,” the Commander said. “He was gravely injured on a mission to Moriband. The details are vague, but he’s in critical condition. So you may have to wait.”  
  
 _Moriband._  
  
Ventress had never been to the Sith homeworld before, but she had heard stories about it, about how the Sith first took Korriban, as it was originally called back in the times of old, the times of Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma (the Emperor had imprinted it into her head about how proud the Sith’s history was, and how great they were), about the Lord Revan, who had once set up an Academy on Korriban, only to destroy it once the Jedi had all but brainwashed him back to the Light (even thinking about it was enough to revolt Ventress. It was not as if she had expected anything else from the Jedi, corrupt and arrogant as they were, but even that…one would have thought, at least, that the Jedi had reservations about such things. Apparently that was not the case), how the Sith had turned on one another when they had attempted to reclaim the Academy – the Emperor must have gone there in an attempt to reclaim Moriband and ultimately failed. But what had happened to him? Had he fallen victim to the predators that now populated what was all but a dead world?  
  
Moriband was nothing more than a dead world now, a shadow of what it had once been. The Emperor had been furious about that, Ventress could still remember, speaking of Revan’s treachery.  _“He could have made the Sith greater than they ever were, could have made them strong, glorious, and instead he surrendered to weakness, and fled. What nature of a Sith would do such a thing?_ ” And Ventress could not disagree. Others spoke of Revan with reverence, speaking of his tactics, his genius, and that was true enough, but Revan himself was a coward. When he could have reclaimed his identity and made the Sith greater than they ever were, he instead turned to the way of the Jedi.  
  
 _Much like Vader and Terminus._ Vader and Terminus’ minds had not been wiped, the Jedi had not all but reprogrammed their identity for the Jedi were all but extinct now, and those who existed could not do such a thing, for all their other reprehensible traits (perhaps one of their few qualities that was not completely reprehensible), but they had turned nonetheless. No doubt out of weakness, and love.  
  
 _Love._ The Emperor had imprinted it in her mind again and again, tried to teach her again and again, and so did Dooku. _Love is a weakness amongst the Sith. Love leads to mercy, and mercy is weakness. Sith do not love, Sith do not have attachments, for they only hold one back from reaching greater potential._ She had cared for Vader and Terminus in her way, but perhaps it was because they were both broken as she was, and in a way, all she truly had. And it was one of those reasons that she was not Sith.  
  
Dooku liked to remind her time and time again that she was not truly Sith.  _Sith have no fear. And I sense much fear in you._ And though Ventress had vehemently denied it, she still had moments of fear. She thought that she could try and hold them back, to suppress them, to overcome them, but they were never truly vanquished, and she was still ashamed of such things. She was no Sith. She had the potential in her, but she knew that she was not quite strong enough.  
  
But one day, she would be strong enough. And from there, she would strike down Sidious and take her rightful place, no doubt, as Empress. Make the galaxy as it should be shaped. Perhaps Terminus and Vader would come with her, and do the same. The galaxy would be as Sidious originally promised, as Dooku originally promised, as others originally promised, before they broke that promise.  
  
In the present, Ventress tried to conceal her emotions, to preserve her image as the Dark Jedi Lady who never showed any vulnerability, any kind of weakness, around her troops. Cold, commanding even in spite of the flaws that threatened to hold her back, ruthless, a woman to be both worshipped and feared, and she turned towards the Commander. “When he is fully healed,” she said, “I will speak with him. We have much to discuss.”  
  
“Of course, my lady.”  
  
Ventress departed to her private chambers. She was not terribly injured from her crash-landing on Vaal; she had suffered worse injuries before. Whatever Dooku and others said about her, she was strong, she was tough, she had always been, ever since she was no more than a girl. Still, she had burns all over her from when she had crashed on the planet, when the TIE fighter she had been flying before the wretched smuggler had shot her down – she had been so close, so very close, to getting rid of Mara Lars, and the smuggler took away her victory in one stroke – and she would need to tend to them. She injected a medpac into one area she had been burned, her arm, and winced as the numbing agent of bacta spread over her. It hurt, it stung, but the injury was not as bad as others she had suffered, for example, in the Clone Wars. Another injury, near her left shoulder, where one of the hyenax – currently in the Commander’s hands; the Commander had seemed quite nervous about the hyenax, but he had nothing to fear; they would not attack unless she ordered them to. They would follow her because she was a leader, because she had proven herself to be a worthy opponent – had clawed her. Again, far worse injuries than this.  
  
Ventress settled into a meditative position as she waited for the Emperor to awake. He would no doubt awake shortly, and she would have to tell him everything – about Terminus’ betrayal (and even in spite of herself, she could not help but feel a twinge of sorrow in her. It was inevitable that Sith would have to fight Dark Jedi, but even so, she had grown to care about Terminus more than she had thought possible. Not suitable for Sith or Dark Jedi, but they were not Sith or Dark Jedi, not truly, and perhaps that was one of many reasons the Emperor detested them, though he knew they were useful and not quite failures), about her failure at Yavin. But for now, Ventress meditated, allowing her fury, her hatred to wash over her, giving her power, giving her strength, as well as thoughts of a future where the Emperor was overthrown and she truly had a chance to prove herself. 


	2. Chapter Two: Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ventress speaks with Sidious about how Yavin went, and things don't go well. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This chapter was actually pretty hard for me to write, considering that I actually just felt terrible for Ventress after I finished it. Still, I think I did a decent job in terms of writing it. Also, warning for torture. Just in case.

It was later that the Emperor awoke, and feeling his presence, Ventress rose to meet him. It was a long walk towards the throne room on Coruscant where he was now, past stormtroopers standing guard, past the Red Guards, and towards the Commander, who seemed to be nervous though he was good at hiding it. Ventress could not blame him. The Emperor was not known for being forgiving. In fact he was ruthless, and he was cruel, from what she had seen of Terminus in medbay when he had unleashed Force Lightning upon Terminus in a fury after Mara Lars had managed to escape, and Vader had betrayed him. It had taken a long while to have everything repaired in Terminus, to make sure that everything in his suit was working properly again as it should be. It was not unusual for the Sith, and Ventress was not particularly angry at Sidious for that though she pitied Terminus – it was the Emperor’s nature to be cruel. One might as well have been angry at the tu’kata for hunting and killing its prey – but nonetheless, she was not particularly looking forward (and that was an understatement) to meeting her Master and facing the inevitable punishment for what she had done.

The Commander turned to look at her. “He’s been quite furious,” he said. “I should tell you.”

“I know.” Like being surprised that the tu’kata is a sadistic predator, or that Hutts are corrupt and love only credits. It was the Emperor’s nature. By now, Ventress could not say she was surprised.  
They entered the throne room, a place of almost complete darkness, filled with shadows – shadows that seemed to be almost dark blue in nature, or black, and a walk towards the throne that seemed to go on forever. Ventress could practically hear the heavy, shallow breathing of the Commander next to her, though he was obviously trying to stay calm. They reached the throne, where Sidious’ back was turned to them, seeming to be looking out at the glittering skylines of Coruscant that he ruled. That they now ruled.

The Commander cleared his throat. “My Lord?” he said. “Your apprentice wishes to speak with you.”

The Emperor turned around, and Ventress’ breath hitched. Though they were clearly healing, there were quite deep scars upon his face – no doubt from the predators that roamed Moriband. And there were wounds that seemed, almost, Ventress thought, like lightsabers. It seemed that the predators of Moriband were not the only ones that the Emperor had encountered in his ill-fated mission there, and it was fortunate that he had managed to get out in one piece. His eyes, the same krayt-dragon yellow that they had always been, malevolent and empty and cold like dead stars, focused on Ventress, and Ventress could swear that they were burning with a quiet hatred that she had not seen in the Emperor’s eyes before, at least not to this degree.  
“You may leave us, Commander,” the Emperor said, and Ventress could feel the quiet fury that brimmed in his voice.

The Commander bowed and left. The Emperor turned towards Ventress. Ventress could already feel the cold, golden eyes bearing into her even as she knelt before him. After a while, the Emperor spoke. “You may rise, Ventress.”

Ventress did so.

“Well?” the Emperor said. “How went Yavin?”

Ventress took a deep breath. “The Battle of Yavin had some…unexpected setbacks, my Lord,” she said.

“Indeed,” said the Emperor. “I thought I felt it upon Korriban.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Ventress. “Tell me, apprentice,” he said, his voice still calm, never truly raising an octave, the same level, almost snake-like hiss that it always was. “How is it that the Death Star was defended by our best men, had all the defenses in the world, and managed to be destroyed? How is it that you were given the task of defending the Death Star and you failed me, failed the Empire?”

“There were circumstances I did not expect, my Lord – ’’

“Don’t waste my time with excuses, apprentice.” Sidious raised his hands, and Ventress already knew, deep in her heart, what was about to happen. Force Lightning, perhaps, like what he had done with Terminus. Or Force Choking her.

But instead, he called his lightsaber to him. Ventress drew hers, and the duel began. Though she was an accomplished duelist, one of the best in the Empire, Sidious himself had plenty of skill, and in the end, she felt his lightsaber slice through her hand. Ventress, weakly, called her lightsaber to her remaining hand, but Sidious sliced through it.

Ventress watched in shock, in fury, as the lightsaber was reduced to nothing more than components, nothing more than ruins. Sidious stood over her, smiling.

“And now you understand, don’t you?” Sidious said. “You cannot beat me. You claim to be Sith, you speak my teachings, but you are not truly Sith. You do not have the strength to beat me.”

“You…” Ventress’ throat clenched with fury. “You are a sick and evil man who cares nothing for the Sith, or the Empire you built. And it will be your downfall.”

“Perhaps another lesson is in order, Ventress?”

Ventress felt the Force Lightning course through her body, electric currents that never seemed to stop, currents that felt as if her entire body were on fire. She writhed, gritting her teeth – the most solace she could wring from all of this was the thought of getting up and snapping Sidious’ neck where he stood. Or driving a lightsaber through his chest. Perhaps making him fall to his knees, helpless, as he had done with her…

The Force Lightning stopped. Ventress, smoking, badly wounded, looked up at Sidious, at the medics that were now taking her away to medbay for treatment. And the most solace that she had in that moment was the thought of killing Sidious. He claimed that she was not Sith, but she knew that he was not Sith either. He was a sick, sadistic man who, for all he claimed he would bring peace to the galaxy, had only caused so much ruin, abused her, Vader and Terminus, betrayed their cause…

She would strike him down. That was the best solace that she had even as the medics took her to the medbay to treat the wounds that he had inflicted upon her as a means of punishing her. And when he had been thoroughly broken, humiliated, defeated, stripped of whatever dignity he possessed, then she would let him die.

Her body ached from the assault that Sidious had inflicted upon her, the electric currents that he had inflicted on her. And it was the hate that was her best solace as the medics tended to her – hatred for Terminus and Vader for succumbing to weakness, hatred for the Rebellion for threatening to undo all that they ever worked for, and hatred for Sidious for what he had done to her, breaking his promises and abusing them whenever he pleased.

I hate you, she thought even as the medics applied bacta to her wounds, as she was given a new mechanical hand to replace the one that she lost. I hate you, she thought as she tested the new mechanical hand, making sure that it worked, that there weren’t any glitches in the construction that could cause it to cease up for a moment or, stars help her, never work again. I hate you.  
I hate you.


	3. Chapter Three: Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ventress recovers from what Palpatine did to her, and we get our first glimpse at Mara again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I admit, getting back into Mara's character was a bit difficult. Fun, but difficult. Hope I nailed her.

While Ventress slept, strange dreams continued to drift through her mind. She could swear that she saw old images of her mentor from long ago, the one who had taken her away from Dathomir, her old homeworld, and to Rattatak, the homeworld she had known most of her life before Sidious had killed him and indoctrinated Ventress into a life that could charitably be described as slavery. She could also swear that she saw images of her birth parents, though they seemed no more than shadows, and reaching for them, she swore that they were there, only to slip through her fingers almost like mist. While Ventress slept, she thought she saw images of her old Sith mentor, before he had been killed on a mission – or so Sidious had said – and she had gone under Dooku’s tutelage instead. She thought she saw Vader, the closest person she had to a friend though it was twisted, and she thought she saw Terminus, who she had seen as an enemy during the war – though one she could not help but feel a strange pull towards. She didn’t know if it was hatred or something else; it was hatred, yes, but it was far more than that. She thought she could feel a bizarre pull to him, a sort of fascination that she couldn’t explain – before becoming a strange kind of ally. In a way, she thought, she and Vader had their share of fascinations. She could not quite reprove Vader for his fascination with Padme when, in fact, she was far from innocent in that regard. She could understand why the Sith forbid such things; passion they understood, but nothing more than that. She could not say that she loved Obi-Wan or Terminus, but nonetheless, she was fascinated with him, and after Sullust, she found a strange solidarity with him that she never expected.  
  
In a way, in many ways, they were very much alike.  
  
Sidious had all but bound her in chains, but Vader and Terminus were still out there, and perhaps, if she could ally with them, get them to come with her…  
  
Would they agree? Were they too blinded by their new loyalties to listen? Ventress didn’t know. But she knew, at least, that she had to go out and find them. Assuming that she was fully healed, and not weakened by what Sidious did to her…  
 _Yes._  Hold onto that hunger, that desire for revenge. It was the best thing she could do if only to keep herself going. It was what Sith drew upon when there was nothing else left, when they needed something, anything to keep going. She was still wounded, needed to rest after what Sidious had done to her, but once she woke, she would strike.  
  
Perhaps not immediately. But she could wait. Wait for the right time to tear him down.  
  
Yes, she thought. She could do that.  
  
***  
  
Far away on the icy wasteland of the planet Hoth, Mara Lars Kenobi had plenty of things of her own to do. The wastelands of Hoth seemed to be all but saturated with snow that seemed to stretch out for miles and miles and miles. Nothing but snow and ice and pure white misery as far as the eye could see.  
  
It wasn’t as if they really had any choice in terms of hiding spots. The Emperor had been furious after his defeat at Yavin, and so had attacked their base on Yavin in the dead of night. Mara could still remember the terror even as the stormtroopers all but flooded in, with Padme telling her to run for it, with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru panicking and looking for her, and Terminus and Sabe being just as panicked. The others, getting on the shuttle, Ben and Leia shouting orders all the while, as stormtroopers continued to shoot at them. They had managed to get on the shuttle in time, but not before many Rebels had fallen in a flurry of blaster bolts.  
  
Mara would be lying if she said she didn’t have nightmares about what had happened. The Rebel soldiers that couldn’t make it to the shuttles in time, shot down in a flurry of blaster bolts, cut down ruthlessly, without mercy. The base on Yavin in flames as the stormtroopers and Imperial soldiers had set it aflame, no doubt to finish the job. And it only made her hate the Emperor even more for what he had done. She knew full well that the Emperor was an evil man – Terminus had told her enough of him, and Vader, and Padme, and Han had told her about the time he had tried to enlist in the Imperial Academy only to realize how the Empire treated aliens (that was how he and Chewie met), and Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and Ben and Leia and Ada and others had managed to give their accounts as well. And she had seen the destruction of Alderaan – at least the aftermath of it, when pieces of it seemed to be drifting in space like debris. But this…watching the base go up in flames, it was only a bitter reminder that the Empire was ruthless, cruel, and not going to stop at anything until they were dead.  
  
 _Or converted._ Padme had told her a bit about that. Vader and Terminus too. How some Jedi weren’t killed during the Empire’s attempts at wiping out all of the Jedi Order  – how some had been captured and tortured in an attempt to convert them. The Emperor was more interested in killing Jedi, eliminating a potential threat, but sometimes, in rare cases, Jedi were converted, with tactics that reminded one almost of Revan and the Jedi Civil War long ago. Even hearing about it was enough to make Mara feel sick. Being in that chamber, in almost complete darkness, taunted and tortured and slowly broken…  
  
It didn’t help that Mara herself had visions occasionally as well, of the Emperor getting his hands on her. Of him breaking her, sticking a lightsaber through her chest, torturing her with Force Lightning all while his face loomed in her visions, all but cackling madly, his face alight with evil glee, of him using all sorts of instruments on her in order to get her to break and join his cause. Of her on her knees before him as his loyal servant, carrying out his will to destroy all potential political enemies, all Jedi, everywhere. And she’d wake, all but coated in sweat, looking frantically around the room just to reassure herself that she was, indeed, in the safety of her own room and not, in fact, in that small dark room being tortured, or kneeling before the Emperor like her father once did, or being shocked with Force Lightning, or any of those scenarios she could not bear to think about.  
  
She hadn’t told the others yet. She knew she should, but there was a part of her that wondered if they were no more than just nightmares. After all, Jedi had regular nightmares like other people, didn’t they? All of this was probably just a psychological holdover from destroying the Death Star and watching the base on Yavin burn, wasn’t it?  
  
Mara’s comlink beeped, jolting her out of her thoughts, and looking out over the barren, icy wasteland of Hoth. Beneath Mara, her tauntaun mount shifted, moaned uncomfortably, and Mara gently patted her on the side of the neck before taking her comlink.  
  
“Echo Seven to Echo Three.” Han’s voice sounded over the comlink. “Mara, kid, do you read me?”  
  
In spite of herself, Mara couldn’t help but smile. “Loud and clear, Han; what’s up?”  
  
“You should probably get over there, kiddo. I think I’ve found something.”  
  
Mara snorted. “There’s not enough life on this ice cube to fill the average space cruiser. You sure you found something?”  
  
“Sure as day, kid. You should probably get over here.”  
  
Mara sighed. “Come on, girl,” she said to her tauntaun. “Let’s go and see what Han’s got.”  
  
The tauntaun loped over towards where Han was – it was almost hard to see him through the blur of the blizzard that seemed to rage every day on Hoth, but through the blinding flurry of white, Mara found Han, bundled up in his Hoth gear, squinting through the blur of snow, his face seeming almost chapped with cold. Still, he sent Mara a quick grin as she approached. “Yeah,” he said. “Looks like a meteorite just struck where I was.”  
  
Mara dismounted her tauntaun, looked down at the place where the meteorite hit, squinting. “Doesn’t look like a meteorite,” she said. “I mean, I’m not really an expert on meteorites, but I don’t think they leave craters like that.”  
  
Han shrugged. “You ever seen meteorites and their craters? They can be pretty big.”  
  
“Yeah, but there’s more than that.” Mara picked up a bit of metal that lay in the crater – a piece of technology that looked more like something that the Empire or the Rebellion used than anything native to Hoth. “Think that may be Imperial equipment.”  
  
Another shrug from Han. “Could be one of ours as well.”  
  
“Well, whatever it is, we should probably get back to the base,” Mara said. “General Rieekan might want to – ’’  
  
Mara was cut off by the sound of her tauntaun making sounds that sounded almost like squeals of fear. She gently patted the beast’s neck. “Hey,” she said, “Steady, girl. What’s wrong?”  
  
Mara got her answer in the form of a hulking pale shape, almost the size of a house or two houses, that reared up in that moment, lashing out at the tauntaun, killing it instantly. Mara grabbed her lightsaber and Han his blaster, intent on taking the creature down, but the creature’s paw slammed against her face, knocking her into the snow. The last thing she heard before everything went black was the sound of Han’s shouting and all but snarling before the beast struck him down as well. 


	4. Chapter Four: Narrow Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Han and Mara narrowly escape the wampa's cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write, I think. I think it was writing the interaction between Han and Mara when they're hiding out in one of the (wampa-free) caves. I dunno; I found that part just really cute. And the tauntaun bath joke. *Has a weird sense of humor*

Mara slept.  
  
In the dream, she could still see the Emperor’s looming face, laughing at her, all but taunting her, his words seeming all but muffled, as if she could hear him through water, but nonetheless, clear.  _“It is unavoidable, young Kenobi. It is your destiny. You, like your father, like Vader and Ventress and many others before you, are now mine._ ”  
  
His face, with those horrible krayt dragon yellow eyes, looming under that dark hood he wore, his face seeming more like a beast’s than a human’s, his teeth all but bared in an almost animalistic mockery of a smile, the sort of smile that probably would have looked more flattering on a krayt dragon or a Hutt.  
  
 _“Go to hell_.” At least, she tried to say it. The words seemed all but frozen in her throat.  
  
 _“You can protest all you want, Mara Kenobi. But it is your destiny. As it was your father’s before you.”_  
  
 _“My father isn’t yours anymore. And we won’t be either.”_  
  
And the Emperor laughed. It was a sort of horrible, mocking laugh, almost a witch’s cackle.  _“You will all belong to me in time. You think your Rebel friends can beat me here, at the height of my power? You are wrong_.”  
  
Mara was stirred back to reality by the sound of faint growling and smacking – she thought she could remember. That beast, the wampa that Rieekan, Ben and Leia had instructed them on on their first day here at Hoth – she thought she could remember that beast. A creature covered in shaggy white fur that seemed almost the size of a house, that had already taken many people who touched down on Hoth’s surface. The wampa had grown to the point that it became almost like the boogeyman that others would talk about in stories – a creature that would attack you when your guard was down, carry you off to its lair in order to make you his dinner.  
  
And then there was Han’s voice. “You all right there, kiddo?”  
  
“Freezing,” Mara said, and that was no lie. Her lips felt almost numb, and her face chapped. Her vision was already dizzy from where she hung upside-down in the wampa’s cave. “How about you?”  
  
Han chuckled bitterly. “Could be better.” He sighed. “Hell of a thing to write on our tombstones, huh, Mara? ‘Here lies two idiots who thought they could take on a wampa and live.’”  
  
“We’re not going to die tonight, Han,” Mara said. “I promise.” She sighed. “I’m going to try and get us out of here. Trust me on this.”  
  
“I sure hope so,” Han said. “Don’t exactly like the idea of becoming a wampa’s dinner.”  
  
Mara’s lightsaber was so close – well, her father’s old lightsaber, if one wanted to get technical. Padme, going by the name of Lady Nemo at the time, had given it to her, long before Mara had found out the truth – that Terminus had not killed Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he and Obi-Wan were one and the same. To say that it had taken some time to get used to the idea was an understatement, but in time, Mara had found herself becoming quite fond of Terminus, even forming the father-daughter bond that they should have had. It was strange at times, hearing his voice inside her mind, for example, coaxing her on what to do (having Padme and Vader in her mind was also pretty weird. Her mind might as well have been a house to shelter a whole bunch of presences that she could never really quite get used to at times), but also, at the same time, oddly comforting. She swore that the lightsaber itself was close, and yet frustratingly far away. Too far away, considering that she needed it to get out of here before she and Han became the wampa’s latest meal.  
  
“Look, Mara,” Han said, “Could you just hurry up?”  
  
“I’m  _trying_.” But no matter how she reached through the Force, trying to focus on calling her father’s lightsaber to her, it seemed almost as if the lightsaber was frozen in the ice, lodged in place.  
  
“Oh for  _kriff’s_  sake,” Han snapped. “Have you completely forgotten to use the Force? Are you a Jedi or not?”  
  
“I don’t see you doing anything!”  
  
“You’re supposed to be the Jedi here!”  
  
The wampa snuffled, obviously alerted by their raised voices. Mara sighed. “Oh, good one, Han. You just alerted him.”  
  
“He knew we were here!”  
  
“Well, yeah, but I was hoping we could at least be stealthy in terms of getting the stang out of this cave…”  
  
Terminus’ voice then echoed in her mind.  _Patience, Mara. Focus._  
  
“Father, no offense,” Mara said, “But I don’t know how this is going to help when an ice monster’s about to eat us.”  
  
 _Reach out. Feel the Force. Focus on calling your lightsaber to you. Let go of any and all distractions…_  
  
“That’s kind of what I’ve been trying to do for a while.”  
  
 _Just let your mind be still and rely on instinct._  
  
Mara sighed. “Okay, Father. Okay.”  
  
She closed her eyes, reached through the Force and felt. The wampa was slowly gaining on her; she could hear its shallow, heavy breathing, growing closer and closer. She could feel its hunger, its eagerness to feast on new victims, and she was the wampa for a moment – she was the wampa and the lightsaber that trembled in the snow and the ice on the roofs of the wampa’s cave and around it, and the snow gathered around Hoth…  
  
The lightsaber trembled in the snow and flew into her hand. Mara cut herself free. The wampa snarled in fury, and Mara swung at it, managing to lop off its arm. The wampa howled in pain, clutching at the place where its arm used to be. Mara, breathing shallowly, ran towards Han and cut him free.  
  
“Great job, kid,” Han said. “Let’s get out of here.”  
  
“No arguments there!”  
  
They ran out of the cave, only for Mara to realize that while they were out of the wampa’s cave, they’d run into another problem. For as far as the eye could see, there were miles and miles of snow and ice and blinding white blizzards – and little to no way to get back to the base.  
  
“What do we do now?” Mara said.  
  
“Easy, kid,” Han said. “We’ll think of something.” But there was something in the smuggler’s voice that suggested that even he didn’t believe his own words.  
  
***  
  
The problem with the search for Han and Mara was that even though Padme knew that they were out there, stranded in the cold, and she could still feel them, at the same time, it was almost hard to feel them. On this massive, ice-covered, snow-covered planet, they seemed almost like nothing more than a faint speck, far away from them, out of reach. And the tauntaun couldn’t keep up forever. Padme could feel her tauntaun begin to waver in the cold, and shiver, and she gently patted the side of its neck. “It’s all right, old girl,” she said. “We’re nearly there. Just hold on.”  
  
“If I may say so,” Terminus said, in his mechanical rumble that sounded strangely like Obi-Wan back in the good days, “How do you know that we’re nearly there?”  
  
“You saw them,” Padme said. “And I saw them, and Vader saw them – they were outside.”  
  
“Hoth is a massive planet. They could be just about anywhere.”  
  
“I don’t really see you coming up with better ideas,” Vader butted in, and Padme reached out to him, through the Force, trying to calm him down. The mission to find Han and Mara both was hard enough without Vader and Terminus choosing this prime moment to argue. Padme had had a premonition of Mara and Han in danger, but it felt imperfect, almost blurred – she knew that they were struggling out in the snow, but she couldn’t say where. It looked like they were just outside a wampa’s cave, but…  
  
Perhaps that was the key.  
  
“Let me stretch out,” Padme said, and she could feel Terminus’ fear, feel his distress – it was a sort of feeling that she never really expected from the usually calm, composed Jedi-Master-turned-Sith-Lord-turned-ally-though-not-quite-Jedi. Obi-Wan was usually so composed, and so was Terminus. Now, however, it seemed as if his composure balanced on the edge of a tight wire, about to tip over at any moment.  
  
She couldn’t blame him. If something had happened to Mara out there in the snow, and Han…  
  
 _Don’t. Don’t think that way. Nothing’s going to happen._  
  
 _But what if –_  
  
 _It’s not going to help if you sit around worrying._  
  
She turned towards Terminus. “You should stretch out as well,” she said. “And Vader. See if you can feel anything.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Terminus nodded. “You speak the truth. I am…sorry, Padme. I suppose I was frightened is all.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Padme said. “Honestly, it’s understandable.” Padme had been separated from her family as a young girl, but she could still remember her parents’ reactions when she became a Handmaiden for the Queen, and later, a Jedi. How they had been afraid even while they had also been happy for her. It was a feeling that was known to many parents, blood or not. They always feared for their children, wanted to protect them, and the idea of not being able to protect them was almost too frightening to think about.  
For Terminus, he had already lost Mara once. The idea of losing her again…it had to be akin to his worst nightmare.  
  
She took a deep breath. “Don’t give up hope,” she said. “She’s still out there. Just stretch.”  
  
Padme closed her eyes and reached out in the Force, across the icy landscape of Hoth. For a moment, it seemed as if she was the ice on Hoth, cold and smooth and still, and the thick, never-ending snow that seemed to never stop falling, and the cold, painful air, and the predators that roamed out there, though far away. And it was then that she felt Terminus’ presence, almost as cold as Hoth’s, and Vader’s, hot as his homeworld on Tatooine. She was the tauntaun she rode, almost failing under the strain of riding so far, as well as the cold, but nonetheless, struggling to stay strong. The Force was all connected, and things that seemed no more than crude matter in that moment seemed luminous and connected and beautiful, all part of the galaxy they lived in. Almost as if they were a complete whole. Pieces of a whole that made it as wonderful and beautiful as it was.  
  
And it was then she felt it. Mara, and Han, struggling in the cold, shivering, but nonetheless, still alive, trying to find the nearest cave in order to take shelter for the night. That cave, far out there –  
  
 _You feel them?_ Terminus’ voice in her mind, not the mechanical, menacing rumble that Padme was now familiar with, but the smooth, rich, musical voice of her Master before it had been burnt away by the lava of Sullust. What she had done, Padme thought, a pang of guilt going through her heart thinking about it. Terminus had forgiven her, yes, and he had told her to run, yes, but at the same time, it didn’t quite assuage the guilt. There was a part of Padme that wondered if there was medicine of today that she could try if only to repair what she had done to Terminus. Skin grafts, hair replacements, and more – after all, modern technology had come a long way since then.  
  
Padme nodded.  _They’re out there. They’re headed towards the nearest cave._  
  
Terminus’ voice was grim.  _I only hope that the cave isn’t filled with more wampas._  
  
 _No arguments there._ Padme reached out towards Vader.  _Do you feel them?_  
  
 _Yes._ Vader’s voice was tight.  _We need to get to them. I’m just worried, Padme – the tauntaun I’m riding’s dehydrated by now. She needs water. Do you have any?_  
  
Padme nodded, handed the bottle to Vader, who proceeded to give it to the tauntaun, who greedily drank it down as if she were in the middle of a desert and that was the last bit of water she had. Considering how they were in a snowy wasteland and the tauntauns were tiring, Padme couldn’t blame them. As Vader gently patted the tauntaun, Padme could not help but be fascinated – every day, it seemed that she saw new, generous aspects of Vader. Vader had half-jokingly complained about why they couldn’t take the speeders instead, but over time, he seemed to grow attached to the tauntauns, though he expressed a certain distaste for their smell.  
  
Eventually, the tauntaun stopped drinking, seeming satisfied, at least for the moment. Vader gently patted her massive neck. “Just a few steps further, old girl. You’ll be okay. And then we’ll get back to the base.” He grinned. “And maybe give you a bath.”  
  
A faint mechanical chuckle from Terminus. “Good luck with that. I doubt you’ll ever get the smell off.”  
  
The tauntaun snorted softly. Padme grinned. “Come on,” she said. “We’re nearly there.”  
  
***  
  
They’d managed to find a cave for the night, which, considering that they were locked out of the base, thanks to Rebellion policy of having the shield doors closed after a certain hour in order to keep the cold out (and thus keep the Rebellion from no doubt freezing to death. Hoth was a chilly wasteland where it always seemed to be winter, even in the summer, as Biggs had once said, but it was at least a safe enough haven considering that the Empire hunted them wherever they went), was one of the best things Mara could have seen all day. They laid out their equipment, trying however they could to start a fire, and began unwrapping the emergency rations they had in their furry coats. Han shivered by the fire before saying, “Y’know, Mara, kid, when I died I pictured it would be by Jabba’s hand after I didn’t pay him off after so long. Didn’t think I’d freeze to death in a cave.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Han.” Mara tried stoking the fire again – this time, a more hearty flame burst into view. That, at least, was a relief. “I didn’t think we’d end up like this.”  
  
“No, it’s fine.” Han sighed. “Least we’re out of the cold. Thought my limbs would start falling off if we ended up staying out there any longer. Thank the stars you found a cave.” He grinned. “Kind of a benefit of having a Jedi at your side, isn’t it?”  
  
Mara chuckled. “Told you.”  
  
They were quiet for a long time. Mara took a bite of the emergency rations and grimaced – there was nothing, she thought, that anyone could say to convince her that they didn’t somehow come from Moriband, they tasted so foul. Still, wasn’t like there was any choice. Didn’t help they’d probably gone a bit stale from freezing in her pocket for so long.  
  
Mara sighed. “You still have your sabaac deck, Han? I have a feeling that we’re going to need it.”  
  
Han shrugged. “Not like we really have anything to do while we’re stranded here.”  
  
He took out his sabaac deck, and in spite of herself, Mara couldn’t help but smile a little.  _We’re freezing our cargo holds off in a cave and we’re playing sabaac._ There was something oddly humorous about all this, even though the situation they were in was bleak at best.  
  
As they played, Mara said, “You ever run into anything this cold?”  
  
Han shook his head. “Honestly, kid, no. Even some of the coldest planets I went to on missions had some green here and there, and some sunny days. This, though…feels like we’re living in a blizzard all the time.” He laid down a five. “Your move, kid.”  
  
Mara laid down her card, a seven this time, grinning. “Your turn.”  
  
As they continued to play, Mara thought, there was something oddly comforting about the whole business. Sure, they were miles away from the Rebel base, and were freezing in there, and were at a risk at living out the rest of their days in there if a rescue team didn’t show up, but even so, with a good friend with you – someone you didn’t expect to be a good friend, to boot – it wasn’t really that bad.  
  
Eventually, Han laid his final card down, grinning. “I win, kid.”  
  
Mara snorted. “Of course. Han Solo, king of sabaac.”  
  
“Can’t deny it.” Han gathered his cards, then furrowed his brow. “You okay, kid?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. “It’s just…there’s something that I want to ask you.”  
  
“Shoot.”  
  
“Are you really leaving?”  
  
It became so quiet that Mara swore she heard the wind howl off in the distance. Then Han shrugged. “Well,” he said, “There’s the fact that if I don’t pay off Jabba the Hutt I’m a dead man. And then there was Ord Mantell, so…” He sighed. “Can’t say that I don’t have some damn good reasons to want to leave.”  
  
“You don’t have to,” Mara said.  
  
Han shook his head. “Look, kid, people like me…we don’t exactly stay with one group for too long. I mean, sooner or later, I’m going to have to go.”  
  
“I suppose,” Mara said. “But I don’t think it would be the same without you.”  
  
Han grinned his typical charming smuggler’s grin. “Missing me already?”  
  
“Well,” Mara said, “You’re good in a fight. You’ve managed to save our butts more than once…”  
  
“That I have, kiddo.”  
  
They both laughed this time. That was good, Mara thought. They needed the laughter, considering that the possibility loomed over their heads that Han couldn’t stick around forever. Mara hadn’t expected to like the smuggler; when she had first met him, he had struck her as presumptuous and arrogant and not caring about most things, but over time…well, he had grown on her. His sense of humor, for example. And when it got down to it, he did care about things; he just pretended that he didn’t. A lot, actually.  
Then they grew more serious. Han sighed. “You know,” he said, “Didn’t think I’d die out in this blasted wasteland. I always pictured myself dying out there in some sort of firefight or something, but not like this.” He shook his head. “And I promised Padme and the others I was going to look after you…”  
  
“You’re not doing too bad, you know,” Mara said.  
  
Han chuckled. “Kid,” he said, “You know where we are? I mean, in terms of rescue attempts, this is probably one of my worst.”  
  
“Well,” Mara said, “Least we aren’t freezing our cargo holds off out there.” Silence. “Besides, Han, stuck with you…it isn’t too bad.”  
  
Han grinned. “Succumbing to my charms already, kid?”  
  
Mara laughed. “You are so full of it.” She sighed. “We should probably get some sleep. I mean, if the rescue team comes in time…”  
  
“I tried contacting them,” Han said, “But…” He shook his head. “All I got back was static. Don’t know if there was something wrong with the communications or something, but if the rescue team doesn’t show up soon, Mara, I think we’re going to be permanent residents. The Hermits of Hoth or something.”  
  
Mara chuckled in spite of herself. “We won’t, Han,” she said. “Padme and the others are coming. I can feel it.”  
  
“They are?” Han said. “About kriffing time.”  
  
“They’ll be here soon,” Mara said. “In the meantime, we should probably get to bed. What do you think, Han?”  
  
Han nodded. “No arguments there.”  
  
They got to sleep then, in the freezing cave, bundled in nothing but the basic supplies that they had brought with them, listening to the howl of the wind outside and the crackling of the fire inside, and Mara found it almost hard to get to sleep – she dreaded the idea of seeing that looming face of the Emperor in her mind again, the hideous face that loomed under the hood, cackling with a sort of evil glee. And she dreaded seeing herself kneeling before him.  
  
But after a long while, Mara drifted off into sleep, the howling of the wind outside ringing faintly in her ears. 


	5. Chapter Five: Nightmares, Dreamscapes and Timely Rescues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme and co. rescue Han and Mara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Gotta go off and get some homework done. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! (Also, I have to say, Mara breaking Han's nose by mistake was definitely something I didn't expect)

_In all honesty, if Mara was to describe her dreams, they were more than a bit jumbled. There was the strange, wrinkled, green alien face of someone who she couldn’t say she’d seen before, looking out at her with its wise yellow-green eyes. “Go to the Dagobah system, you must, Mara. Unfinished, your training still is.” It spoke in a croaking voice that was heavy with the years of wisdom, and its speech pattern…it was nothing like Mara had heard before. She saw the Dagobah system, a muddy swampland that seemed to stretch out forever, and she saw others training beside her – Ben, for example, and Vader and Terminus, and Padme, and Sabe. It wasn’t just her who had to be trained, actually – it was the beginning, she could only assume, for a whole new line of Jedi._  
  
 _And then there was the matter of the Emperor himself, his face looming through the mist of her dreams as they shifted from the strange swampland of Dagobah to the same dark mist that seemed to cloud Mara’s nightmares ever since the matter of the Yavin base burning to the ground. His grin, wide and stretching and almost maalraas-like in nature – it was one of those grins that would no doubt cause a maalraas to flee in absolute terror – and his laugh, maniacal and seeming to echo through her mind. “You will kneel before me in time, Mara Kenobi,” he said, in his slithering, almost serpentine voice. “You and the rest of your pitiful little band. You will kneel before me, and you will do so gladly.”_  
  
 _Mara, standing before him, badly wounded, breathing heavily. “I’ll be damned if I ever join you.”_  
  
 _“You will learn.”_  
  
 _Worlds burning. Hoth’s base, going up in flames just like Yavin’s. Places such as Tatooine being all but obliterated in fire and smoke. Rebel fleets destroyed. Mara, being forced to watch from Coruscant itself as the fleets above continued to go up in flames, seeming almost no more than specks in the sky as the Imperial fleet continued to obliterate them. The Emperor’s voice, continuing to slither, leaving a cold, unpleasant feeling trickling up Mara’s spine. “Come, Mara. See what the Rebellion’s efforts have forged.”_  
  
“Mara. Kid, you’ve got to wake up!”  
  
 _A woman, completely bald, wearing a hood, wielding two red lightsabers. “The Rebellion will pay for what they’ve done. They will fall, and when they do, they shall perish in great pain.”_  
  
“Mara.  _Mara_!”  
  
 _Mara, kneeling before the Emperor. “What is your will, my Master?”_  
  
 _“Seek out and destroy the remnants of the Rebellion. Every moment they are still out there, they threaten us all.”_  
  
 _“As you command, my Lord.”_  
  
“Mara!”  
  
 _The Rebellion, falling, their bases set on fire, people dying left and right. Terminus and Vader being broken once more, forced back into the service of the Emperor. Others, too, serving the Emperor. The Rebellion being slowly crushed._  
  
Hands, shaking her gently. “Mara!”  
  
Mara swung upwards, heard a crack, and then Han’s voice. “Stanging hell, kid – what was that for?”  
  
Mara opened her eyes, snapping out of her nightmares, looking around the cave to realize that she was indeed, still in the cave, and not in the nightmare. Not in this terrible world where the Emperor would have gotten his hands on her. Not in this terrible world where the Emperor would have broken her friends, all but destroyed the Rebellion…  
  
 _Thank the Force itself_.  _It’s just a bad dream._ But those dreams…what if they weren’t just bad dreams? What if –  
  
Then she noticed Han, using his sleeve to dab at his broken, bleeding nose. “Stang, kid,” he said. “You have quite a mean right hook.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Mara said. “I was…” She rubbed her temples. “I had another nightmare.”  
  
“I could see that,” Han said. “You were thrashing around in your sleep. Must have been a pretty bad one.” A pause. “You want to talk about it?”  
  
“I’m okay,” Mara said. “Besides, I have a feeling that…” She shook her head. “I have a feeling that Padme and the others are probably the best people I can talk to about this.”  
  
“Jedi mysticism and stuff?”  
  
“It…seems like it.” Mara sighed. “I thought it was just some leftover stress after what happened with the base on Yavin, but it has this feeling like…this is going to sound completely ridiculous, Han, but I think it might be a vision or something.”  
  
Han shook his head. “Kid, I’ve been from one end of the galaxy to another, and trust me, there really is no such thing. I don’t believe in anything controlling my destiny.”  
  
“Maybe,” Mara said. “It just felt like a vision or something. Doesn’t help that I’ve had quite a few of them for the past days.”  
  
“Past days?” Han said. “And you haven’t told anyone?”  
  
“I…” Mara sighed. “I thought it was just a bunch of bad dreams. That was all. But now…I’m not so sure.” She took a deep breath. “It was about the Emperor, and us getting…defeated.”  
  
Han placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look, kid,” he said. “He’s not going to do that. Not if we all have anything to say about that. I mean…” He chuckled. “You think that we’re not going to up and give him hell before he defeats us?”  
  
Mara shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, we are Rebels, aren’t we? Of course we’re going to give him hell.”  
  
“Exactly,” Han said. “And if he tries to get his hands on any one of us, I think we’re going to give him quite a lot of hell.”  
  
There was the faint sound of footsteps. Tauntaun footsteps, to be more precise. Han grinned. “Well,” he said, “Looks like our rescue party’s arrived. About time they showed up.”  
  
That, Mara thought, was at least good news. They gathered their things before running out towards the specks that were only growing larger by the moment. Padme, Terminus, Vader…and the moment Padme dismounted, she ran towards Mara and embraced her. Mara felt almost as if her ribs were being crushed, and she tried to wheeze out, in between Padme all but crushing her against her chest, “Let me go…Padme…I need some air…” but in truth, she was happy to see Padme and the others as well. She embraced Terminus (who seemed to be on the brink of losing his composure, Mara could feel it. Usually her father was so stoic but right now he seemed downright terrified, and she was terrified as well – she had seen him emotional on occasion, but nothing like this) and Vader (who proceeded to give her the secondary-father sort of lecture. “You gave us  _such_  a fright!”, along with shouting about how they could have lost them both), before they moved onto Han. Padme’s eyes widened as she looked at Han.  
  
“Han?” she said. “What happened to your nose? The wampa didn’t – ’’  
  
“Oh no, no.” Han grinned through the blood that was trickling down his face. “Mara broke it. By mistake. She has quite a mean right hook, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
They chuckled, though it was uneasy. Padme placed a hand gently over Han’s face, cast a healing spell on Han’s face. The nose healed up, though the trickle of blood that had been flowing down Han’s face was still there.  
  
“Come on, you two,” said Padme. “Let’s get you to the Rebel base – you two need some rest, and some healing.”  
  
And they got on the tauntauns, Mara behind Terminus, Han behind Vader, and they rode off back towards the Rebel base, leaving the cave on Hoth behind. 


	6. Chapter Six: Discovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara recovers, and then shortly after that, things go pear-shaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I will admit that Mara, Ben and Ada's conversation with Leia was one of my favorite parts to write. As well as the "oh shit" moment when Rieekan and co. realize that the Empire has found them.

“Mistress Mara, it’s so good to see you fully functional again.”

Mara, who had just been recovering from her encounter with the Wampa as well as her and Han nearly freezing to death out there – at least before they had found the cave – gave the golden protocol droid a quick smile. “Thanks, Threepio. It’s good to be up again.”  
In terms of the recovery process, it had been a long one, mostly in terms of getting the appropriate treatment for the scars that she had received from the Wampa, as well as getting plenty of rest. Han, much to his frustration, had to as well. Mara could understand somewhat – she too wanted to be back out there in the action – but at the same time, she thought, she wasn’t going to be good to anyone if she wasn’t fully recovered.

They’d managed to heal the wounds, but there would be faded traces of them on her skin. Still, Mara supposed, she didn’t mind that much. Scars weren’t that bad. They meant that you had Been Places and Done Things. They meant that you were tough, and every one of the Rebellion was pretty tough.

Ada took the moment to come in. Ada was a year younger than Mara – she’d been eighteen years old when Alderaan was destroyed. Now she was twenty one, while Mara was twenty two. She flashed Mara a quick grin. “Looks like our fearless Jedi is up. How are you doing?”

Mara sent a grin her way. “I’m doing fine. Bit…” She trailed off; she almost wanted to tell Ada about the dreams, but at the same time, she thought, maybe Ada was better off not knowing. She didn’t want Ada to worry too much. “Bit tired is all.”

“I can see that,” Ada said. “How are the scars?”

“They’ve faded,” Mara said, gesturing to her cheek where the wampa had clawed her across the face. “Lucky that the Wampa didn’t tear my face off or something.”

“Lucky that you survived at all,” Ada said, going more serious. “I mean, most people who come across the Wampa don’t come back. I mean, when Padme, Kitster and Terminus had that premonition, when they told us, we thought you were a goner for sure.” She sighed. “Thank the stars you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Mara said, smiling a bit. “Thank the stars.” She sighed. “So, what did I miss while I was gone?”

“Not much,” Ada said. “A lot of news reporting on the destruction of the Death Star. People acting like the Rebels are terrorists, stuff like that…typical Imperial propaganda.”

“That’s a load of bantha crap.”

“Yeah, but the Imperial citizens are probably going to believe whatever the hell’s fed to them.” Ada sighed, and Mara could swear that her face fell if only for a moment, becoming more vulnerable. Though Ada was slowly healing from the destruction of her homeworld at the hands of Tarkin, it had still left its mark on her. A wound of grief that would never quite heal. Tarkin had paid for what he had done – that was the only death among the millions of deaths upon that space station that Mara didn’t regret for a second – but Alderaan was still gone, the Emperor was still out there, ready to exact his vengeance and destroy more planets if need be, and the survivors, such as Ben, Leia, Ada, and the rest of the crew of the Tantive IV had to carry on.

Mara reached out towards her, tentatively, and placed a hand on Ada’s shoulder. “Well,” she said, “To hell with the Empire. What they’re saying completely disgraces the memory like those who died on Alderaan.”

“Exactly.” Ada’s voice became more heated. “They think we’re the terrorists, even though they’ve killed innocent people. Hell, some of the news reports are making it look like Alderaan shot first, even though…” Her voice broke off, almost as if she couldn’t bear to say the rest. She sighed. “I know it’s Imperial propaganda and I shouldn’t really expect any less, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still make me angry.”

And Mara could see what Ada meant. Her home had not been destroyed like Ada’s was, and she was fortunate for that. Her family had not been killed in a green flash of the Death Star’s firing laser. But she had seen the bits of debris that was once a beautiful, lush world, full of shining cities, floating through space, the others staring, horrified, at what had happened. She had felt it, millions of people crying out in terror, begging for help, for mercy, clutching at one another for comfort in their final hours. And she felt Ada’s grief, sharp and pungent as ever, though Ada herself tried to stay strong and steely, almost Leia-like, in a way – because Ada was strong. Determined. Tough. Selfless. It was one of those things she admired about the younger woman, and hoped to emulate, though she was but a year older than Ada.

“I know, Ada,” she said, softly. “I know.” She had seen her share of Imperial propaganda back on Tatooine, before Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen usually decided to change the channel, ranting about how the Rebels were terrorists trying to destroy the “glorious” Empire and how they needed to be hunted down. She still saw snippets of it, not as obvious as some of the ones she had seen – hell, some of the propaganda mostly amounted to “we’re doing what we can for the good of the galaxy” and “all we want to do is restore peace to the galaxy”. Which, if that was the case, then Hutts weren’t somehow corrupt.

Ada sighed. “Still,” she said, “That is why we fight, isn’t it? I mean, if we didn’t fight back, the Empire would only destroy more cities like Alderaan, or kill more innocent people. I mean, it is what we’re made for, isn’t it?”

Mara grinned. Right on, kiddo. Right on. “Exactly.” She took a deep breath. “So,” she said, “What else has been happening around the base?”

“Well,” Ada said, smiling a bit, “Kitster actually decided to try and give his tauntaun a bath.” A chuckle rippled from her, lighting up her face – it was almost radiant to watch. “I mean, you should have seen it. He was trying to scrub her down, and she splashed water from the bucket all over him and the other officers that were trying to help out. I think by the end of it…” Ada broke into giggles. “I think poor Kitster was soaking wet. Even wetter than the tauntaun.”

Should have seen that coming, Mara thought with a smirk. After all, tauntauns were notorious not only for their smell, but how difficult it was to bathe them. Bathing them was a lot like giving pittens a bath; you could try, but it mostly ended in a strange combination of misery and comedy for the person who decided to give them a bath in the first place.

“Also,” Ada said, “There was a bit of a mishap with Princess Leia’s laundry. Mostly regarding Threepio and Artoo – ’’

“Mistress Ada,” the protocol droid said, “I most resent that insinuation! All I was saying was that it was freezing in the Princess’ chamber.”

“It’s kind of supposed to be,” Mara said.

“But how was I supposed to dry out all her clothes?”

“The temperature could have helped, at least,” Mara said.

“Mistress Mara, while you are a fine mistress, I severely doubt that freezing temperatures could really dry out a person’s clothes – ’’

“So,” Mara said, “You’re telling me you turned up the temperature in Leia’s chambers?”

“It was an honest mistake, Mistress Mara!”

Mara rubbed her temples; already she could feel a headache coming on. “For the love of the stars themselves, Threepio, next time you have to dry out someone’s clothes, don’t nearly melt their room first!”

“Mistress Mara, I doubt that I could melt the Princess’ room. It is made of solid durasteel – at least most of it – ’’

“Well, still…don’t turn up the temperature next time,” Mara said. “Okay?”

“I shall not, Mistress Mara. In fact, I made an agreement with Mistress Leia not to do so again.”

“Good to know.”

It was later that the others came in – Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, giving Mara frantic hugs while Uncle Owen himself said, “Don’t you ever do something like this again, Mara; you gave us such a fright!”, Vader, Padme and Terminus, congratulating Mara on her recovery, Luke, looking vulnerable for a moment before grinning and congratulating Mara on her recovery, Sabe, giving Mara a hug so tight that Mara almost thought that her ribs would snap, Chewbacca, giving her a massive Wookiee hug that made Mara think she had almost been lifted off her feet, Biggs and Wedge, commenting that she “looked well enough to rip the ears off a gundark”, Ben, giving her a quick hug, and Leia, entering the room, giving her a quick hug as well. They then moved on to Han, greeting him with variations on hugs and high fives and congratulations, which Han accepted with a grin.

Except Leia. When she approached Han, Mara noticed, it seemed almost as if awkwardness suddenly filled the room. She seemed vulnerable, for a brief moment, before steeling her face to a more professional look. “It is good to see you alive and well, Han,” she said. “When I heard about the attack, I feared the worst.”

Han grinned. “Well, I’m pretty hard to kill, Your Worship. Mara too. If she hadn’t found that cave, I think we would have both been done for. So…guess I owe her one.” He sent a grin Mara’s way, and Mara, feeling the awkwardness dissipate slightly, grinned back.  
Then the awkwardness returned. If it could get any more awkward, Mara thought, it might as well have a giant proximity alarm blaring, ordering everyone within range to stand back so they wouldn’t get caught in the blast radius of what was about to fall out. She could practically feel it between the two of them. When Han had suggested at one point leaving, he and Leia had had a pretty heated fight in the hallway. Mara hadn’t caught all of it, but she thought she had caught something about Leia “not leaving without a goodbye kiss” from Han, and Leia’s retort that she’d just sooner kiss a Wookiee, which Han sarcastically replied could be arranged. Mara had overheard it when she was coming back from a bit of training with Padme, and had winced a bit – she doubted she’d ever heard the two of them go at it like that before. Granted, the two of them seemed to clash a lot, but even so…

She had wondered if there was something between the two. She’d been more willing to brush it off as simple arguing before, but considering the choice of words, and how it seemed to be about “feelings” for Han (or lack thereof), Mara started to wonder if there was something going on. Now, it looked like it would be the Same Argument In The Hallway, Only Repeated in Medbay Where Other People Were Guaranteed To Be Watching, With Front Row Seats.

“Well, Your Worship,” Han said after a while, “Looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Leia said. “You are in no shape to go out there in your condition. That and General Rieekan thinks it’s dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we’ve activated the energy shield.”

“That’s a good story,” Han said. “I think you just can’t bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.”

Leia stepped back, clearly trying to keep calm, looking at him with exasperation. “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser-brain,” she said.

Behind Han, Chewie chuckled his Wookiee chuckle, and Vader was clearly trying to stifle laughter. Ada’s lips also seemed to be twitching, though she was trying to look disapproving.

Han shrugged. “You guys can laugh all you want,” he said, “But you didn’t see us that day in the south passage.” He grinned. “She expressed her true feelings for me.”

“I – I did not – ’’ Leia’s face was flushed, and she was nearly incoherent with anger. “Why you…stuck-up…half-witted…scruffy-looking…nerfherder!”

Silence reigned in the room as Leia clearly tried to regain control. Everyone else looked clearly uncomfortable. They had very rarely seen Princess Leia lose control like that, and seeing her like that was almost like watching General Rieekan lose control, or Mon Mothma, or anyone like that. Padme and Vader both looked uncomfortable now, as if questioning if they should intervene. Luke looked a bit worried. Ben looked concerned. Some of the Tantive IV crew looked curious, as well as Biggs and Wedge. Terminus looked impassive, as usual. Sabe looked uncomfortable. Ada looked like she was about to speak up, and Threepio seemed to have discreetly excused himself, as well as Artoo. And Mara could not help but be curious as well. Leia had never lost control. Well, very rarely. Even when she was irritated, she at least managed to keep her cool, but seeing her this furious – well, it was a sight to see.

Han, meanwhile, looked at her, indignant. “Who’s scruffy-looking?” he said. He turned towards Mara. “Must have hit pretty close to the mark in order to get her riled up like that, didn’t I, Mara?”

You don’t say. “You should probably stop, Han,” Mara said. “You’re just going to make her angrier.”

“Well, it is true, kid. If she’d stop resisting my undeniable charms – ’’

“Undeniable charms?” Leia seemed relatively composed now, though still clearly angry. “Well, Han, I suppose you don’t know anything about women yet, don’t you?” She left, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

Stanging hell, what was that about? Mara had seen Han and Leia bicker before; their personalities seemed to go as well together as fuel and water, but she’d never seen them explode like this. Normally, Leia would have shrugged off Han’s comments with no more than irritation, and maybe a bit of a calm, composed telling-off, but this…

He must have hit a mark somewhere, at least. Mara didn’t know.

Ada sighed. “I’m going to go and look for her,” she said. “Make sure that she’s doing okay.”

“Same here,” Ben said.

“I should go too,” Mara said.

“You sure?” Ben said. “I mean, you should probably rest – ’’

“She’s my friend,” Mara said. “I should at least make sure she’s okay.”

They continued down the hallway, where Leia was, leaned up against the wall of the east passage, clearly trying to regain her composure. Mara was almost hesitant to approach her at first; she didn’t want to set Leia off again, but at the same time –

Leia looked up at them. “What do you want?” she snapped.

“Take it easy, Leia,” Mara said. “We wanted to make sure you were okay is all.”

Leia took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down. “Right,” she said. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” She sighed. “It’s Han. I don’t understand how he can be so difficult sometimes.”

“Well,” Mara said, “Han is Han, I guess.”

“I guess,” Leia said. “But…” She sighed. “When will he get it through his thick skull that I would not go out with him if he was the last man in the galaxy?”

“I know,” Mara said. She paused. “Quick question…you may kill me for this, but I actually kind of overheard you when I was coming back from training with Padme. When you were arguing in the hallway.”

“You heard the whole thing?” Leia’s ears didn’t quite turn red, but Mara could feel her embarrassment radiating through the Force.

“I’m sorry,” Mara said.

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s not like you were intentionally eavesdropping or anything, but…” Leia shook her head. “I don’t have feelings for Han. He’s…crude and he’s a scoundrel and he’s consistently frustrating on too many ends.”

Mara shrugged. “For some people, that’s kind of a thing.”

“Well,” Leia said, “I’m not ‘some people’. I prefer…nice men. Gentlemen, perhaps. Not him.”

“Like Luke?” Mara joked.

Leia chuckled, perhaps for the first time since it happened. “No. He is a sweet young man, but I’m not attracted to him. I do enjoy his company, however.”

“Yeah.” There was something about Luke, gentle, easygoing, relatively nice Luke that made it very relaxing and easy to be around. Mara could still remember those times when they rode speeders across the desert, trying to forget about some of the problems that were plaguing them at the time, whether it be restlessness, the chores going bad, nightmares, anything, really. He was good company, and Mara always enjoyed being around him.

There were parts of Mara that started to notice how Luke had…grown up since she’d gone away. He’d become a bit stronger – not extremely so, as Luke was more of a slender, small build in contrast to Mara, but he’d definitely put on a bit of muscle while she’d been away. That and his own deeds within the Rebellion so far – there was something about him that Mara could not help but be captivated by. Still, she and Luke were still friends, weren’t they? Just friends. Just good old Luke and Mara, the team, the duo that got into trouble since they were no more than kids, and Mara had to bail him out of trouble most of the time. Just the team.

“So,” Mara said, “Anyone you’re thinking of?”

“I’m not sure,” Leia said.

“You could get with Rieekan,” Mara said with a slight smile.

Leia shook her head, chuckled. “Mara, he’s old enough to be my uncle, if not my father. Besides,” she said, growing more serious, “I don’t know if I can pursue relationships, considering the circumstances. I do have a lot to do. Even if I did have feelings for Han,” she said, and Mara swore she seemed almost vulnerable for a moment, almost as vulnerable as she did in the South Passage when she’d overheard her and Han arguing, “Too much is happening in order to pursue those feelings.” She paused. “I do admit Han has become a valuable ally, however, and a hero of the Rebellion. If he left, it would be a great loss.”

“Yeah.” Han could be insufferable – now was a good example, considering how he seemed determined to rile up Leia – but even he had his moments. He did care most of the time, Mara thought, even though he tried so hard to make it look like he didn’t. “So,” Mara said, “You feeling all right?”

“I’m feeling a little bit better,” Leia said, “Thank you, Mara.”

“No problem,” Mara said. “And don’t let Han get to you. He can be a jerk sometimes.”

“I noticed,” Leia said, a hint of wryness in her tone.

It was then that an alarm went off. Ben’s brow furrowed. “You hear that?” he said. “Sounds like trouble, doesn’t it?”

Mara’s chest clenched. Have they found us? Dear Force, please don’t say that they found us… It had been the same alarm she’d heard before the base on Yavin had been attacked. Before the Imperials had set it on fire.

And it was then that an announcer’s voice echoed over the loudspeaker. “Headquarters personnel, please report to command center. Headquarters personnel, please report to command center.”

Leia turned towards Ben and Ada. “You two should come with me.” She then turned towards Mara. “And you should probably get back to your room, Mara. Whatever’s happening, I doubt it’s good.”

***

“Princess,” General Rieekan said, “Senator…I believe we have a visitor.”

They gathered around the console, in the central control room on Hoth. Just about everyone was gathered around the main console, tense and on edge. They had already been on edge ever since it had been announced to report to General Rieekan – usually that only happened in cases of severe emergency. And Leia had a feeling that the emergency, in time, would be severe indeed.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“We’ve picked up something outside the base in zone twelve,” Rieekan said. “Moving east.”

Ben spoke up. “Are you sure it’s not one of the wampas, sir?”

Rieekan shook his head. “No,” he said, “It’s metal. Not organic in any way, shape or form.”

“Right,” Ben said, “But are you sure it couldn’t be a speeder? One of ours?”

“Actually,” Rieekan said, “We picked up a transmission as well. It’s weak, but it’s there. I’ll put it on screen so you can listen.”

The signal was staticky, and weak, and wavering, but if there was one thing that Leia could make out through all of this, it was the fact that the signal itself didn’t match up with any signals used by the Alliance. In fact, she thought, from prior experience, it sounded almost –

“It sounds like an Imperial code,” she said. Terror seized her chest. Had the Empire finally found them? She knew full well that the Empire would never stop hunting them until they were all but exterminated or broken. What had happened to Alderaan was proof enough of that. What had happened on Yavin, when the stormtroopers had set the base alight, was proof enough of that. And yet, though she tried to keep her air of professionalism about her, she could not help but feel terrified. They’ve found us. They’ve finally found us. 

She shook her head. “Whatever it is, it isn’t friendly.” She sighed, opened her comlink. “Han?”

“Yeah?” Han sounded irritable. “What do you want now?”

Leia sighed. “We need your help,” she said. “From reports that we’ve received, there may be an Imperial presence on the base, but we’re not quite certain. Can you possibly check it out?”

“The Imps are here?” Han’s voice was calm, but Leia could tell that the news had struck him.

“We’re not certain,” Leia said, “But it is possible. Do you think that you and Chewie could – ’’

“No problem.” Han’s voice took on a cocky edge. “So you do want me around after all – ’’

“Not now,” Leia said.

“Okay then,” Han said. “I’m going out there.”

“Good,” Leia said. “Be careful out there.”

A faint chuckle. “Don’t worry, Your Worship. I’m coming back in one piece. I know you’d miss me when I’m gone…”

Leia sighed. She was glad at least that her argument with Han was over, at least for now. She only wished that he didn’t have to be so difficult sometimes. In truth, there was something about the smuggler that she had grown…accustomed to overtime, his habit of light, joking humor in order to keep things from getting too grim, his bravery when it was called upon (because most of the time, he was quite brave), his skills…

And he was quite handsome. It was a pity that it had to be offset by his less-than-desirable traits. Things such as his self-centered nature, caring more about his own skin at times than a greater cause (though it wouldn’t go so far to the point of him deserting his friends in a time of need. There was that), his crudeness, his determination to try and touch a nerve with her…if not for that, she thought, she wouldn’t mind him too much.

Still, now wasn’t the time to think about such things. Leia herself had duties to focus on. And Han Solo was not one of them.

***

The wastelands of Hoth seemed to stretch out for miles and miles. The worst part, or at least one of the worst parts, Han thought, was this little expanse of Hoth was only the tip of the Star Destroyer when it came to how big Hoth really was. The agonizing hours when Han and Mara had been out in the cold, trying to get away from that damn wampa and back to the base was proof enough of that. Han had to admit, for all he didn’t trust Jedi that much – there was something about their ways, their look at things, that was enough to unnerve him sometimes. For example, the matter of the Force, and how much they relied on it. If you wanted to get by in the galaxy, you had to rely on yourself and your own choices, not the choices of some weird mystical energy shield that was apparently surrounding everything – Padme came in handy. Her, Kitster and Terminus, all of them, really. Han had to admit that for all Kitster occasionally weirded him out, he had become some measure of friends with the man.

Watching carefully over the snowbank, Han could hear Chewie snuffling – the Wookiee was not that fond of the cold. Poor guy. Back on his homeworld of Kashyyyk, it was nowhere near that cold, from what Chewie had told him of Kashyyyk, and it at least had some degree of warmth and pleasantness. Yeah, there were the predators that roamed down in the shadowlands, but other than that, Chewie had said, Kashyyyk wasn’t really that bad.

In all honesty, it was one of those areas where Han agreed with Chewie – Hoth was miserable. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were pretty low on hiding spaces in terms of the Empire, they wouldn’t have gone there. If Mara hadn’t crash-landed there and said it was perhaps their best bet in terms of escaping the Empire’s prying eyes, they probably wouldn’t have gone there. But Hoth felt almost as if it were trapped in an eternal winter, with no end in sight. Even Han’s coat couldn’t quite keep the cold out forever. At least, Han doubted it. He was wearing multiple layers and still shivering.

Still, there was no time to start wimping out. They were Rebels, after all. Wimping out was not in their game. And while Han could not say he was entirely on the side of the Rebels – not that he was against them, but he was very much his own man. He couldn’t say he belonged to either side, though he’d be damned if he went back to the Empire – they were tough. His friends were tough.

Friends. It was an odd word to use for all this, but it was true. Before, he couldn’t say he had many friends except for Chewie. Now, it seemed he had a lot of them. He couldn’t say he knew how to feel about this.

Han was jarred out of his thoughts by the sound of a tinny signal all but piercing through the air. He raised his head, only to see a droid, almost spider-like in nature, gliding over the snowbanks. Apparently he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was being, as the droid swung in his direction, ready to fire. Han drew his blaster –

\-- but he didn’t seem to need to fire. Because from behind, or out of nowhere, a laser hit it, and the droid exploded into flaming wreckage, leaving shards that seemed a lot like the shards of metal in the meteorite Han had found earlier.

How many of those droids have been out there without us noticing?

But then again –

He raised his comlink. “Princess,” he said, “I think you’ve got a bit of trouble.”

“What do you mean, Han?” Leia’s voice was tense.

“Well,” Han said, “Chewie and I ran into a droid out there. Kind of spider-like. I was about to fire, but it was almost like it…self-destructed.”

Leia’s voice was pretty calm considering the circumstances. It seemed, at least most of the time (Han was the exception. There was something about him that seemed to get on her nerves. Han had a feeling that it was just a way to deflect the fact that she felt something for him. Of course she denied it, but it was there. In a way, for all Leia got on his nerves, she fascinated him, almost unlike any girl that Han had met before) she was able to stay calm. Her voice didn’t even waver. “An Imperial probe droid.”

“Yeah.” They’ve found us. It’s taken a while, but they’ve found us. Han had seen what the Imps had done to the base on Yavin, looting it, setting it on fire, almost completely destroying it. He’d known full well that the Imps were nasty pieces of work – how they treated non-humans, for instance, what they’d done to Alderaan, the list just went on – but it was one of those moments when the reality of it was just slammed in Han’s face. “I think they’ve found us.”

“We better start the evacuation.” Rieekan, this time.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Han turned to Chewie. “Chewie? We should go and start up the Falcon. If the Imps are on our tail again, we better make sure that we can outrun their ships.”

Chewie let out a sound of assent, and they headed back inside, towards the hangar, to make the final repairs on the Millennium Falcon.


	7. Chapter Seven: Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Battle of Hoth begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: So, this was pretty fun to write. A bit hard in terms of keeping everything together, who's doing what, getting the more military-related (for this universe) stuff right, etc. but fun nonetheless. Hope you enjoy.

It was long after her recovery was over that Asajj Ventress reported to the Emperor, hatred still seething in her heart. She would have to keep it quiet, at least for the moment. Hatred towards your master was encouraged, yes, and eagerly invited, but the matter of whether the Emperor would welcome it was the last thing on Ventress’ mind. She would just have to conceal from him when she intended to rebel, when to stab him in the back. To keep her intentions quiet, at least for the moment. The Emperor knew that one day, one of his apprentices, whether it be his ex-apprentices such as Vader and Terminus or his current apprentice, meaning her, would challenge him for the Sith throne. It was the way of things. The strongest must rule if the Sith were to survive. And in order for the strongest to rule, it came down to the fact that one of the Sith must challenge their master to duel for supremacy. No room for weakness, no room for cowardice or hesitation – they would take the opportunity, kill their Master, whether it be secretive or direct, and take the Sith throne for themselves. Then they would take on another apprentice and the cycle would begin again.

And in that moment, Ventress doubted she hated the Emperor more than she did in this moment. She had hated him before, after he had electrocuted Terminus for his past failure, and tortured Vader for one of his failures, as well as punishing and abusing them when they were young if only to “strengthen” them – Ventress could still remember such feelings all too well, the sort of terror and helplessness and growing rage, knowing that they were still very young, still brimming with power and yet almost unable to fight back – but now, it felt as if her hatred was about to boil over like the lava of Mustafar. Facing the Emperor now – the best solace she had was the knowledge that one day her lightsaber would be piercing through his back, and she would look into his eyes, and he would know that he was not a god, not as powerful as he thought, but a pathetic, sad little man who disgraced the Sith with his very presence.

He was a disgrace. This she knew. He was a disgrace to their beliefs, a disgrace to all they had strived for, and a disgrace to their Empire. He cared nothing for the Empire, or the Sith teachings. Everything existed if only to feed his power, a sort of power that seemed forever insatiable, forever craving in a galaxy slowly dwindling of Jedi…except for the Kenobi girl. And there was Padme – she could change her name, but Ventress knew her face too well, and her voice, and who she was. She could change her name, but she could change nothing about who she was. Vader and Terminus – they were Sith, but they had redeemed themselves, Ventress could only suppose.

She didn’t hate them as strongly as she did the Emperor, but she hated them all the same. They had betrayed who they were, they had betrayed her. And for that, she doubted she could despise them more.

But perhaps they would see in time? Perhaps they would come around, once more to her way of thinking. They would overthrow the Emperor, make him pay for what he had done, and rule the galaxy as legends, shaping it into the way that the Emperor had promised he would shape the galaxy before he had broken that promise. And perhaps the Kenobi girl would come with them, and things would, further, be as they should be.

Ventress continued into the throne room, where the Emperor sat, looking out over the skylines of Coruscant, the glittering cityscapes, but she was not afraid. Rage, Ventress found, could be quite remarkable in terms of neutralizing fear. If you hated someone that much, fear almost became irrelevant. She would let it simmer for the moment, but she would not let it surface until the time was right.

_Time._ That was the key word. Ventress had never been truly good with time, or patience, much to Dooku’s chagrin and almost constant scoldings, as well as her previous Sith Master (“We are Sith! We are not drunken bomas charging into situations as we see fit!”). But for the sake of her plan succeeding, she would need to be patient. Before, Ventress had never been quite fond of patience, preferring direct action to hiding in the shadows. Now, however, it seemed that she would need to be direct in order to achieve her goals.

The Emperor turned around, looking at her from underneath his great black hood, his eyes krayt-dragon-like in how they gleamed underneath it, cruel and cold and disdainful, his lizard-like face pale and gaunt and almost sickly underneath the hood. When he spoke, his voice was almost like a serpent as well. Everything about him was akin to a reptile, Ventress thought, which was appropriate, all things considered.

“Well, apprentice,” he said, with a sort of false concern that felt as slimy as a Hutt’s skin, “How goes your recovery?”

“I am able to serve, my lord.” _Play the role of apprentice to the last. Good. And be mindful of your thoughts; he cannot be allowed yet to see what you are up to._ Ventress had heard, in the past, of a former Sith operative that played pazaak, listed hyperspace routes, or counted ticks in the power coupling in order to keep people from hearing his thoughts. Ventress did not know about such techniques – she had never quite seen the appeal of any sort of card games – but at least she could throw up a cover in order to keep the Emperor from seeing inside her mind.

“Good,” said the Emperor. “How goes the search for young Kenobi?”

“Captain Piett picked up a transmission from a probe droid in the Hoth system before it self-destructed,” said Ventress. “Admiral Ozzel believed that it was smugglers, but no smugglers have a transmission like that. The Rebels are there, and I intend to go and find them.”

“Good, good,” the Emperor said, purring almost like a contented rancor. “Just remember – the girl and her companions are our top priority. Kill any other Rebels in the base. They are irrelevant.”

“As you command, Lord,” Ventress said. “I will leave at once.”

She left then, and a faint smirk came across her face the moment she was fully out of the Emperor’s earshot. He was more arrogant than she thought. He had fully bought into the idea that she was still his loyal apprentice, willing to do whatever he commanded, and thus barely noticed that she was plotting against him. Then again, for all his intelligence and his master of strategy, the Emperor had always been quite arrogant. It was one of those things, Ventress supposed, that came with being in power. The Jedi had suffered from it quite a bit, for example.

And quite a bit was an understatement.

Still, the Emperor was wise in one regard: he knew who his true targets were. The other Rebels were barely significant, and the higher-ups would at least be brought to Coruscant for treason and summarily executed. But the true targets were the Kenobi girl, as well as Princess Leia Organa, Ben Organa, Padme Naberrie also known as Lady Nemo, Sabe also known as Elizabeth Nerus, Han Solo, and many others who had caused trouble for the Empire.

And traitors, of course, such as Vader and Terminus.

Ventress boarded her shuttle to head towards her new flagship, the _Hand of Vengeance_ , which was currently rendez-vousing at Hoth (at least, assuming that Admiral Ozzel, clumsy and foolish and stupid and woefully incompetent as he was, did not botch the whole operation through sheer recklessness). She would find the Kenobi girl. And perhaps, in time, she would have the Kenobi girl see things her way, and from there, they could work on making the galaxy, truly, better.

And though there was a possibility that all of this could be ruined by one Admiral’s carelessness, or one failure of discretion on her part, Ventress, somehow, felt better than she had in a long time.

***

Outside Mara’s room, the others were already getting ready to face the Imperial forces coming their way. They weren’t unprepared as they were – at least more than usual – when the base on Yavin had been attacked. They knew what to do now. They were already lined up outside the base in attack formation, Padme, Sabe, Vader, Terminus and the others were getting armed, Wedge and the others were putting on their flight suits, and Mara herself was already getting into her flight suit as well as preparing to pack in case they did have to flee.

She had a feeling they would have to, however. The Empire would never let them stop running. Before, the Emperor had no doubt seen the Rebels as no more than a nuisance. Now, however, he hated them. Mara could feel it. She wasn’t linked to the Emperor, but she could feel his hate boiling in her nightmares, along with his sadistic, evil glee. He would no doubt chase them across galaxies before he let them win.

And the very thought terrified Mara. The Emperor would never stop. She could see the terror in Ada’s eyes as well, and Ben’s, and Leia’s, the thought that Hoth would suffer the same fate as Yavin. The Death Star was gone, but that didn’t mean that they were necessarily going to stop. It didn’t mean that the Empire would ever stop hunting them.

According to Padme, the woman chasing them right now was Asajj Ventress, the same woman who had tried to shoot her down over Yavin. According to Padme, Ventress was ruthless, cunning, and would stop at nothing until the Rebels were dead. Vader and Terminus had spoken with some sadness about her, expressing reluctance (it was obvious, at least, from the way they spoke, and the look in Vader’s eyes) to fight her. They had been close, at least as close as Dark Jedi and Sith could ever be, and the Dark Jedi and the Sith were not known for being close with one another. Usually, Vader said, they were intent on backstabbing one another.

_“In the Sith, such things are not just allowed but encouraged,” he said to her._

_Mara raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be counterproductive to your cause?”_

_“Well, some would think so,” Vader said, “But not the Sith. In the Sith, the strongest must rule if we are to survive. And if the strongest must do so, we have to weed out the weak and the unfit, and seize power for ourselves when we become strong enough.”_

_“I can’t picture living in an environment like that.”_

_“Well, of course not,” Vader said. “The environment you live in…you take strength from the presence of others, you don’t try to eliminate them. You don’t throw them away once they’re done being useful.” He sighed. “I will admit it is strange being in such an environment. We…did not quite treat one another like that, which the Emperor was quite displeased with, but he was more than happy to try and throw out anyone who had seemingly outlived their original purpose.”_

_Mara flinched. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised – the Emperor was a nasty piece of work; that much was obvious – but the more she heard about the Emperor, the more she heavily disliked him. She couldn’t help but wonder how such an evil man had not just gotten into power, but stayed there for that long. Padme had talked about how the Emperor had taken advantage of the fragile political climate back in the days of the Trade Federation, the Separatists, and the Clone Wars in order to get into power, as well as make amendments to the Constitution in order to serve his own purposes, but to think that he had stayed there for that long…_

_It only made Mara shiver with revulsion._ They let a monster get into power, and not only did they let him get into power, they let him stay there. He shouldn’t have stayed there for that long.

_“I’m sorry,” she said to Vader._

_“It’s hardly your fault,” Vader said. “It is…strange, admittedly, being in the company of other people. Those who see Terminus and me as equals, and not merely tools.”_

_“Well, most people don’t operate on that,” Mara said. “We’re not like Palpatine. Well, not all of us.”_

_“I can see that,” Vader said. “I confess I am still impressed with you. All of you.” He smiled. “You may have your problems, but you are good. All of you.”_

_Mara grinned. “We are. And we’re going to take the Emperor down, Vader. I don’t know quite how, but we will. And that’s a promise.”_

_Vader smiled. “I figured that much.”_

Both Terminus and Vader weren’t looking forward to fighting Ventress, this Mara knew. Even as she packed, she could hear the sound of Han working on the _Falcon_ with Chewbacca, then shouting at the Wookiee to turn something off – Mara could only guess that something had gone wrong in the repairs. Threepio and Artoo were talking about looking after Mara, and, Threepio added, “yourself as well”. Ada was at the workbench in the Rebel base, making upgrades to her blaster, and Vader and Padme were in a heated argument. “…we can’t take her to Dagobah, Padme!”

“Kitster,” Padme said. “I know you have…issues with Master Yoda, but this is important nonetheless. Mara needs to complete her training.”

“She was doing fine while she was with you!”

“I can’t teach her everything,” Padme said. “Master Yoda still has much to teach her.”

Vader snorted. “About how to recite the Jedi Code backwards and forwards, perhaps.”

Padme sighed. “Kitster, I know Master Yoda has his faults, but he’s no doubt changed over the years. He’s getting older, his time is limited at best…”

Mara sighed, turned back to her packing as the argument became more heated. She didn’t know who this Master Yoda was, but whoever he was, he seemed to have struck a special nerve with Vader. She tried concentrating on packing more things into her bag – medpacs, etc. – as Terminus intervened, speaking gently to Vader and Padme in an attempt to calm the both of them down, no doubt. “I can’t say I have much love for Master Yoda left nowadays,” Terminus said, “But if he is necessary to complete Mara’s training…”

Mara sighed and turned back to her packing, making the final touches. There. Looked like just about everything was packed. They could deal with the heavier equipment later. She sighed, slung her bag over her shoulders, and headed towards the main hangar deck, where the X-wings were.

“You doing okay?” Luke, this time.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mara said. “Guess I’m a bit worried about the evacuation and all.”

Luke placed a hand on her arm. “I know.” He sighed. “They’re never going to stop, are they?”

Mara shook her head. “That and…well, Kitster and Padme got in a fight.”

“They did?” Luke looked alarmed. “What about?”

“Oh, you know…philosophical differences. Padme wants to take me to one of her old Masters for Jedi training, Kitster…” Mara sighed. “He didn’t like the idea, and he was pretty vehement about it.”

“Stang.” Luke sat down next to her. “How come he doesn’t like…Padme’s master that much?”

Mara shrugged. “I dunno. Personally, I think he’s being ridiculously stubborn and kind of selfish. But I guess he’s always had that problem to some extent.”

“He’s not that bad,” Luke said.

“Well, yeah. Most of the time, he’s a good guy, but sometimes he can be frustrating as all hell.” Mara sighed. “Honestly, Luke, I have a feeling that wherever I’m going, I’m probably not going to be able to meet you at the rendez-vous.”

Luke’s eyes widened in alarm. “You’re leaving?”

“Not for good,” Mara said, smiling a bit. “I mean, I’m going to be back. Can’t really start the action without me, Luke.”

The both of them chuckled. Then Luke became more serious. “Where are you going?”

“Dagobah,” Mara said. “That’s where Padme’s old master is, apparently.” She sighed. “I’m pretty nervous about it, but I think I’ll pull through.”

“I think you’ll do great,” Luke said.

Mara laughed. “I certainly hope so.”

It was then that Mara and Luke walked towards the Millennium Falcon, where Han was still working on the repairs. “Hey,” Mara said. “How are the repairs going?”

“We had some problems,” Han said, “But trust me. In time, she’s going to be up and running. And then we’ll be outrunning the Imperial fleets so fast they won’t know what hit them.”

Mara laughed, but in her heart, she felt a sudden heaviness. Han was talking about it almost like he expected her to come with them. She’d have to find a way to break the news to him. How would he take it? Then again, she had a feeling that Han wouldn’t be around for that long either. He still had things to do himself, such as paying off his debt to Jabba that seemed to be hanging over his head like a stormcloud.

_Leaving._ What a word. It wasn’t like one of those ordinary words, one of those light words that meant that you were just going away for a while. “Leaving” had a heavier feel to it – _yes, I’m going away, and I’m not sure if I’m going to come back again._

Mara swallowed. “Just be careful out there, okay, Han?”

Han grinned. “Will do.” He turned towards Luke. “Don’t get yourself killed out there, kid.”

Luke grinned back. “I won’t. Promise.”

Mara then turned towards Chewbacca. “Chewie,” she said, “You take care of yourself as well, okay?”

She placed a hand on the Wookiee’s shoulder, to which Chewie responded by practically lifting Mara off the ground in a crushing hug. Mara laughed in spite of herself, even in spite of the sudden, heavy sadness that was beginning to grow in her, as if things would never quite be the same again.

_But of course they will,_ she thought as she broke free of Chewie’s embrace, and Luke got his turn at being all but lifted off the ground in one of Chewbacca’s signature “Wookiee hugs” – the hugs so enthusiastic you were almost worried about being squished – laughing all the while. _It’ll just be a short trip to Dagobah after the battle, and then you’ll go back and meet them at the rendez-vous. No big deal, right?_

And yet Mara had a sinking feeling in her chest, almost as if, even if they survived the battle, one of them wouldn’t quite be coming back again.

***

In the control room, the silence was so great you could practically hear a pin drop. Just about everyone was on edge, waiting for the inevitable sign of the Imperials dropping out of hyperspace, ready to attack them. Everyone was calm, completely professional, barely betraying any sign of emotion, and yet Rieekan could feel the tension in the room so thick that you could practically cut it with a vibroblade. One never really knew when the Imperials were going to strike – the attack on Alderaan was proof enough of that (and in truth, Rieekan still had nightmares about it, about the planet going up in flames, about the screaming of millions of innocent people, annihilated with one blast, about Bail and Breha blaming him for letting them die. _Why didn’t you do something, Carlist?_ they asked him in his dreams, hovering in them almost like ghosts. _Why did you let us die?_ ) as well as the base on Yavin (and Rieekan still felt the deaths of the men on Yavin weigh heavily on his conscience. They had lost too many good people that day). He wasn’t going to let Hoth have any more casualties, any more good men dying. But now it seemed as if the tension hovered on the edge of a vibroblade as they watched the console screens, waiting for the inevitable attack. _Just hold still, wait, until your doom inevitably happens…_

It was then that one of the controllers gestured towards him. “General?”

Rieekan stood. “Yes?”

“You should come and see this, sir.”

Rieekan crossed over towards the console where the controller sat. On the console, familiar triangular, pale shapes flashed on the console screen, heading towards Hoth, towards the base. And Rieekan’s chest clenched. The Imperials were here.

“They came out of hyperspace in sector four,” the controller said. “It’s begun.”

Rieekan swallowed. In truth, he was still terrified – though he still tried to not show it. A General could not show their terror to their men – but at the same time, he was relieved. This wasn’t an unexpected attack like Yavin had been, seeming to strike from the shadows, coming out of nowhere, communications and other resources hit almost immediately – almost as if the Empire had known where they were now and wanted swift retaliation for the Death Star’s destruction. This was rougher, sloppier, and thus, they had more of an opportunity to combat it.

“Reroute more power to the energy shield,” he said. “We’ve got to hold them until all transports are away. The safety of the evacuees is our top priority. On ground, we can distract the Imperials until the transports are out.”

“Do you think we’ll succeed, sir?” the controller said.

“I don’t know,” Rieekan said. “But we can at least give everyone in the base a chance. Prepare for ground assault.”

***

Deep within her meditation chamber, Asajj Ventress waited. It was not a terribly large meditation chamber; it was large enough, at least, to allow Ventress to carry out her meditation without any sort of interruptions. In a way, with its almost spherical shape, and ebony, shining durasteel, it seemed almost like an orb to shut Ventress away from the rest of the galaxy, at least for a time. And in the meditation chamber, Ventress reached out towards Hoth, searching for any familiar presences. The Kenobi girl, for example, whom she had sensed in the Battle of Yavin – she had not seen the girl’s face, as it had been mostly hidden in the cockpit of the X-wing, behind a helmet, but she sensed the girl’s presence all too well, because even in the heat of battle, she continued on, unconquered. She searched for Vader and Terminus’ presences, if they were still on the surface of Hoth.

She had no desire to fight against them. To turn them to her cause, to make them understand that not only was her cause more than righteous, it was the only way to make sure that the Emperor was fully overthrown. That the galaxy became what it was made to be, instead of the shattered ruin that the Emperor had made it. When she was a girl, she was almost enthralled by the Emperor’s promises of peace. No more corruption in the Senate, the Sith ruling the galaxy and making things truly right, as it should be. Things such as slavery almost completely eradicated, poverty almost completely eradicated…from the way that the Emperor described it, it seemed almost like something out of a fairytale.

Because in the end, Ventress thought, that was all it was. The Emperor cared nothing for the galaxy, or its people. He claimed that she was not truly Sith, but in truth, he was not truly Sith either. He was a wretched old man who had perverted the original Sith cause for his own sick purposes. And for that, among other reasons, she hated him.

Vader and Terminus were there, down on the planet. She could sense Vader’s anxiety, talking with Padme, apologizing for some sort of argument they had had earlier. And Ventress could not help but feel a sort of confusion, feeling the mixture of emotions coming from them both – anxiety about the future, a sort of hope, tenderness…

Of all the Sith emotions, love was perhaps one of the most dangerous ones, because it led to gentleness, softness, compassion, mercy. And that was exemplified here, with Vader. He had turned away from the Sith because he loved Padme.

Why was the question. But Ventress had a feeling that she already knew why. Because Vader always seemed to have a sort of attraction, a sort of fascination with Padme, perhaps ever since Geonosis, when she had been captured. She was everything that opposed Vader’s beliefs, and yet he was attracted to her, fascinated with her, even showing mercy to her more than once.

_“You shouldn’t show mercy towards her,” she had said to Vader. “It is foolish. It will be your undoing, soon enough.”_

_Vader merely raised an eyebrow. “And what about your ‘fascination’ with General Kenobi?”_

_“I –’’ Ventress was almost deprived of speech in her shock, her outrage, and a feeling that Vader was somehow onto her. Of course. They had been close enough, at least as close as Sith could get that had all but grown up together, that Vader knew the truth. “I am not ‘fascinated’ with General Kenobi!”_

_“You can deny it all you want, Ventress,” Vader said, “But I know the truth. I’ve seen how you get around him. You’re not exactly innocent in that regard either.”_

And Ventress supposed that was true enough. Even when he had become Terminus, there was something in her that was fascinated by him. He was arrogant, he was blinded, he could occasionally be ruthless towards his enemies (in a more detached sense), he had the almost uncanny ability to get on Ventress’ nerves…

And yet she could not help but be fascinated by him, in more ways than one. Pity that he had to already be married, she supposed.

Then again, if there was anyone whom one would never have suspected of being secretly married, it was Obi-Wan Kenobi. The man was a stickler to the Jedi Code, following it to the letter and, from what Ventress could gather, trying to have others do the same. She wasn’t surprised, somehow; in their battles, Obi-Wan could be relentlessly assured and almost arrogant, certain in his naïve belief that no matter how terrible things became, the Order would still prevail.

And in the end, he had fallen. To protect Sabe, to protect the Republic…it was as Terminus that she saw a different side to him, a more pitiful, broken side, though he had been remarkably composed about it. Never truly saying a word, never truly showing it, keeping his stoic façade in his service to the Emperor – it was only in rare moments that Terminus let his vulnerability show. Over time, Ventress had grown, strangely enough, to pity him.

Did she love him? No. Sith did not love. That was one of those things that was purely fact. Love only weakened a Sith, as it did to people such as Darth Sion, and now Vader and Terminus. Perhaps Ventress was not truly Sith, but she was not weak either. She would not surrender to such things.

Ventress closed her eyes, focusing instead on her anger. Anger was an emotion that she understood too well, ever since she was a girl, since she was an apprentice, from abuse by her Sith masters to defeats in battle and setbacks to betrayals and much more. And most of all, anger at the Emperor for how he had treated her. Even thinking about it, her anger boiled white hot within her, washing over her almost like a wave, boiling behind her eyes, building. Her breathing was shallow at first, but became deeper as she meditated, letting the anger wash over her.

It would give her strength for the trials ahead.

It was then that her meditation was interrupted by a faint _ping_ outside the chamber. Irritated, Ventress turned around if only to face the visitor. It was General Veers. A proper-looking older man dressed in a typical Imperial uniform, composed but with an air of nervousness to him, Veers bowed quickly to Ventress before saying, “My Lady, we’ve come out of lightspeed. The forces have approached the Hoth system, but it has detected an energy shield. I fear the energy shield is strong enough to deflect any bombardment.”

Ventress’ breath hitched. How had the Rebels known that they were coming? At Yavin, they had at least had the benefit of surprise when they had stormed the base, but now, either the Rebels had become wiser since the attack on Yavin, or –

_Of course._ Admiral Ozzel was one of those admirals that, much like Motti, Tagge and Tarkin before him, Ventress had little to no idea why he was in charge. The Admiral was arrogant, blustering, smug, and those traits would perhaps be forgivable if he had some semblance of competence or strategy, but instead, his “plans”, if you could call them that, had all the refinement of a drunken bantha who had somehow learned how to operate a Star Destroyer and a fleet, all because its herder had given him such command. “Admiral Ozzel came out of lightspeed too close to the system, did he not?”

“He thought surprise was wiser – ’’ Veers said.

“General, you are being too charitable. Ozzel is as clumsy as he is stupid. I will deal with him as I see fit.”

Veers looked as if he wanted to protest, to ask Ventress to go easier on him, that it really was a foolish mistake – it was nothing of the sort. The Admiral had jeopardized the missions with his incompetence one time too many for Ventress’ taste. If he was in charge, the Kenobi girl and the others would slip right through Ventress’ fingers, and she could not allow that to happen – but instead, he merely bowed. “As you wish, my Lady.”

“Prepare your troops for the surface attack on Hoth,” Ventress said. “If we cannot bombard from above, we will attack them on the ground and disable the energy shield.”

“I will leave at once, my Lady.” Veers bowed again and left.

Ventress turned back to the viewscreen before switching it on to display the view of the _Executor._ It truly was a beautiful ship. She had never had something akin to a ship this large before, had more preferred smaller, efficient ships, but despite the ship’s blockiness, it was truly a beautiful ship. The look out at the stars, the sweeping landscape of the galaxy, where you could see every planet, every star, every moon in all of existence. The crew, most of them quite loyal – there were exceptions, of course, but most of them were dedicated citizens to the Empire, and more than willing to serve.

Admiral Ozzel, a sturdy man with a thick mustache and one of those faces that Ventress despised almost immediately – that just about everyone despised almost immediately – turned around, clearly previously in conversation with Captain Piett – a slighter, more fragile looking older man with eyes that seemed weary and almost haggard – and bowed quickly to Ventress. “Lady Ventress,” he said, “We’ve just come out of lightspeed, and we are preparing to – ’’

He was cut off as Ventress’ hand curled, her reaching out through the Force to telekinetically choke him. Ventress let her rage bubble up in that moment, lashing out towards Ozzel, towards every moment of arrogance and every moment where he had compromised the Imperial fleet – and now his incompetence would let the Kenobi girl slip through her fingers.

“You,” Ventress hissed, “Have failed me for the last time, Admiral. Captain Piett?”

“Yes, my lady?” Piett stepped forward, clearly seeming nervous as Ozzel gagged, touching his throat in confusion, trying to understand how Ventress could have done such a thing (nothing was truly impossible with the Force. And that was why common officers such as Tagge, Motti, Tarkin and Ozzel were inferior – no one could truly go against the power of the Force). Piett himself was obviously trying to stay calm but also seemed nervous, almost as if fearing that he would be next.

Piett had nothing to fear, of course. The Captain had his share of blunders in his career, but otherwise, he was a competent officer, and more than willing to serve the Empire. And he was diligent, dedicated, selfless in his service, and more than that, competent. He would make a superior replacement for Ozzel. This Ventress knew.

Then again, she supposed, a one-legged tach would make a superior replacement for Ozzel. But Piett was still the better choice.

“Be ready to land our troops beyond the energy shield,” Ventress said. “General Veers will be handling the ground assault. You, meanwhile, will land beyond the energy shield and deploy the fleet to make sure nothing gets off the system. You are in command now, Admiral Piett.”

Piett’s emotions seemed to be mixed at best. For all he tried to appear calm and professional as he always did, Ventress could sense his mixed nervousness and excitement over finally getting the promotion that he had always wanted and some pity left over for Ozzel, who let out one last choking breath before collapsing on the floor of the Executor in a lifeless heap. Ventress made a note to later have the cleaning droids dispose of Ozzel’s body; one couldn’t simply leave a dead Admiral lying around.

Piett bowed quickly. “Thank you, my lady,” he said. “It is an honor. I will not fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” Ventress said. “Ventress out.”

She ended the transmission, and in spite of herself, she could not help but smile if only a bit. Ozzel the fool was disposed of, and a more worthy soldier had taken his place. Under Piett and Veers’ command, the Kenobi girl, Vader, Terminus and the others would not slip through her fingers.

Not this time.

***

The first transport had gone away. Leia had already gone over the rules in order for the transport ships to get out intact, and the first transport had, thank the Force, gotten away in time. Now Mara had to stay behind if only to make sure that the base on Hoth was defended for a long enough time for the others to get away. The sinking feeling hadn’t quite gone away, the feeling that one of them wouldn’t be coming back even if they managed to get past the energy shield.

Then again, they all had that risk of not coming back. Every time.

Mara headed towards her snowspeeder. Luke was there. “You okay there, Mara?”

“Yeah,” Mara said. She sent Luke a quick smile. “A bit nervous, but I’ll be okay.”

“Same here.” Luke sighed. “You ready?”

Mara nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

In her mind, she heard Terminus’ voice. _Good luck, Mara. You will need it in this battle. I don’t know if all of us will make it out alive, but nonetheless, good luck._

Mara bit her lip, nodded. “Good luck.”

Luke didn’t even make a comment. Mara could only conclude that ever since he had made it off Tatooine towards the Rebellion, he had gotten used to all the weirder Jedi stuff by now. He sighed. “Okay,” he said, “I guess this is our cue to head out.”

Mara started up the engines. Even as she did so, she heard a faint voice over the communications station. “Echo station three-t-eight. We have spotted Imperial walkers.”

And then, “Imperial walkers on the North ridge!”

Mara’s chest clenched. She already had a feeling as to what that meant. Imperial walkers, or as they were called by most, AT-ATs, were some of the most formidable Imperial weapons out there. Standing tall, almost the size of a house, looming over the landscape, they were difficult to take down, made out of pure, almost impenetrable durasteel, and to say that they were going to make the battle a hell of a lot more difficult was probably going to be an understatement.

She sighed. “Oh boy,” she said. “This is going to be fun.” She took a deep breath. “Hold on, Luke. We better head out there. They probably need our help.”

“No arguments there,” Luke said.

Mara raised her comlink then and spoke into it. “Echo Station Five-Seven. We’re on our way.”

She started up the engine of the snowspeeder and they sped out towards the battlefield. Mara didn’t know if they were going to win, but she only hoped that she was going to give the other transports a chance to get away in time. She hoped.

The growing fleet of snowspeeders headed at full throttle across the icy landscape, and Mara squinted against the suddenly harsh sunlight. Everything about this planet, she thought, seemed to be like winter. The ice that covered the landscape along with the snow, the predators that seemed to roam the planet, the sunlight that shone in her eyes – it was fortunate, she supposed, that the helmet she wore helped protect her eyes somewhat from the harsh sunlight, though not enough.

“You okay?” Luke said.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mara said. “Just…bit of a glare is all.”

“Okay.” Luke sighed. “Some bad news, Mara – I don’t have an approach vector. I’m not set on this.”

“Keep it steady there, Luke,” Mara said. “Attack pattern delta. Go now.” Over the comm, she said, “The rest of you, follow our lead. Attack pattern delta. Go.”

_Mara, to your left!_ Terminus’ voice, alarmed.

Mara steered the snowspeeder out of the way of a blast from one of the AT-ATs. She sighed. _Thanks, Father. We were nearly cooked, weren’t we?_ She couldn’t say that she was too used to this whole communicating telepathically thing, but she supposed that she was still trying. If a bit badly.

_You need to be careful. Remember what I told you during the Death Star battle?_

_Does that mean that I’m going to have to turn off my targeting computers again?_

_Not this time,_ Terminus said. _I mean stretch out with your perceptions. Become one with the planet, its landscape, the battle raging across it…_

Mara sighed. _I’ll give it a shot._ She reached out through the Force, through the battle now raging, and she managed then, to get out of the way of the laser blasts, which narrowly missed her and instead, blasted holes in the snow. She continued shouting orders into the communications system, ordering snowspeeders to get out of the way of certain blasts, and most of the time, she was successful.

Most of the time.

One thing about being in tune with the Force was the fact that you could feel everything that was going on around you, and that meant everything. You were all but the people in the machines, firing at the Rebels almost like they were teenagers shooting at womprats in their speeders back home on Tatooine, some of them with a certain detached coldness, others with a sort of sadistic glee that, either way, made Mara shiver. The Imperial forces were ruthless. That much was true. And more than that was the deaths that Mara felt.

Because one of the speeders, carrying one Dack Ralter, was shot down. Mara gripped her forehead, crying out in pain and grief.

“Mara?” Luke said. “Mara?”

“Dack,” Mara said. “Dack’s gone.” She couldn’t say that she knew Dack as much as she should have, but Dack was a good kid. A genuinely good kid. Another good kid gone in their fight against the Empire, gone too soon. How old was he anyway? Eighteen years old?

_Eighteen. Eighteen years old, and the Imperials just shot him dead like they were shooting at womprats._ And she could feel her hatred bubbling up, and her anger –

_Mara._ Terminus’ voice. _Calm yourself. Use the Force._

Mara steadied her breathing. She couldn’t afford to lose control of herself, not now. Even if it was tempting to do so. Ever if it was all too tempting to shoot down the Imperial Walkers where they stood…

Then again, maybe they couldn’t shoot down the Imperial Walkers, but they could try and take them down at their weak spots.

Thing about the Imperial Walkers was that even though they were powerfully built machines, they also had quite spindly legs. At least, compared to the rest of their body, they were spindly; they could still stomp anything flat.

Still, Mara couldn’t help but wonder – perhaps they could find a way to take down the Walker at the legs?

“Luke,” she said, “Do we still have any spare cable?”

Luke looked at her in confusion. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Mara said, “I think I have a plan.”

***

The defenses holding the Rebel base were down, and though General Maximilian Veers knew that he had a long way to go before they reached the shield and thus infiltrated the Rebel base, he was confident enough that their invasion was going in the right direction. They were the ones who had the upper hand, in the end, not the Rebels. The Rebels thought that they had the upper hand, but in the end, the Empire would always gain the upper hand. The Empire would always win.

The Rebels would try all they want to try and sabotage everything the Empire had ever worked for, but in the end, they would lose. They were weak, outgunned, drastically outmatched, and they barely had enough equipment in order to stand up against the Empire.

Veers had worked for the Empire for years, in between supporting his family and after his wife’s death, his son. The Empire was his home, the Empire was his life, and he would be damned if a group of ragtag Rebel Alliance soldiers was going to undo everything the Emperor had ever worked for. What were they fighting for, after all? Was there anything they were fighting for, except to restore only a more corrupt Republic? There was nothing they were fighting for. For all intents and purposes, they were fighting for nothing. The Empire, meanwhile, had plenty of things to be fighting for. Families, for example – lives that were lost on the Death Star the day that the Kenobi girl had fired a shot into the main reactor. And for the sake of loyalty to their government, pure, honest patriotism. One could say that Veers was a dyed in the wool patriot, and that could not be denied.

It was then that Ventress’ hologram appeared on the screen of Veers’ control panel. “Well, General?” she said in her thick, heavily accented voice, “How goes the mission?”

“We’ve reached the main power generator,” said General Veers. “The shield will be down in moments. You may start your landing, my lady.”

Ventress smirked. “Excellent. I am already touching down right now.”

“We will see you in the base then,” Veers said.

“Indeed. Ventress out.”

Ventress’ hologram disappeared, and Veers turned back to the seemingly endless expanse of snow that seemed to be stretching out before him. Why the Rebels would live on such a desolate planet was beyond him, but they had picked other locations worse than this before, and he had been to worse planets. As the blizzard continued to blow snow across Veers’ view of the base, Veers continued forward, towards the power generator, and closer towards his goal.

***

“You want me to do _what_?” Luke stared at her in confusion.

Mara sighed. “Their armor’s too strong for our blasters, Luke,” she said. “You know this. You have to go for the legs; it’s the best chance we have in terms of covering them.”

Luke seemed to be thoughtful for a long moment. Then, “You know,” he said, “That’s actually not a bad idea.” He sighed. “I just hope that we don’t get ourselves killed.”

“We won’t,” Mara said. “Not while I’m looking after you.” She grinned. “Cross my heart. I’ll look after you. It’s going to be like Beggar’s Canyon back home, Luke.”

Luke took a deep breath. He was obviously trying to calm himself for a long while. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to have to get in pretty close to fire that harpoon, though, won’t we?”

Mara nodded. “Just trust me, Luke. Trust me.” _And hope that I don’t somehow mess up horribly._

She swooped in close towards the legs of the AT-AT, narrowly avoiding its stomping feet, almost like a small sparrow, then turned to Luke. “You ready?”

Luke nodded and fired the harpoon. The cable latched onto the AT-AT’s leg, and the speeder glided around the leg of the AT-AT. Mara turned towards Luke. “Okay, Luke. Detach cable.”

Luke did so.

They flew out of the way in time for the AT-AT to collapse on the ground in a wreck. Mara grinned, feeling, even in spite of herself, strangely exhilarated – something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “We did it, Luke,” she said. “We did it!”

Luke seemed to be regaining his breath, but he was grinning as well. “Yes,” he said. “We sure did.” He took a deep breath. “Come on. Let’s help the others out. Hobbie and the others are going to need us.”

***

Back in the Rebel base on Hoth, General Rieekan, Ben Organa and Leia Organa watched the progress of the battle on their viewscreens, and Ben couldn’t help but feel a growing anxiety in his chest. His twin sister was doing wonderfully out there, they all were. And they had managed to get the first few transports away. But in terms of the other transports, this was going to be a lot harder.

Ben had been all too familiar with the feeling of being backed into a corner, of knowing that your enemies had finally found you and there was no place left to hide. It was a feeling that he had run into the day that the Imperials had attacked the _Tantive IV_ , and he had known back then that the Empire knew that he had betrayed them, along with Leia. It was a feeling that he had known all too well when Alderaan had been destroyed, when he had seen the bits of debris floating through space towards the _Millennium Falcon_ where a planet should have been. It was a feeling that he had known all too well when the Death Star had approached Yavin IV, and for a horrifying moment, he had expected that the planet would suffer the horrible fate of his homeworld. And the second time the Imperials had attacked Yavin IV, only, this time, there was no saving the base. There was no saving the good men and women who had perished in that terrible attack – they had managed to save most, but some of the Rebels had died that day. Some members of the _Tantive IV_ crew, for example, staying behind trying to fend off the Imperials as best they could, trying to play hero as they always did –

Ben watched with a growing sick feeling as snowspeeders were shot down ruthlessly, as, for every AT-AT that was taken down, there were snowspeeders that were taken down. As Veers and his men continued further, dismantling the Rebel base’s defenses. As he continued to watch the viewscreen with growing horror, the base trembled, sending chunks of snow and ice flying all over the monitor and at Ben. He wiped the snow out of his eyes; Veers and the others had fired on the base.

Ben supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that Veers was doing so well. Back when he had been acting as part of the Empire while doing covert missions for the Rebellion, he had heard of Veers. A competent, if overly ruthless man, with a sort of honor to him – he was a man who preferred straightforward action to underhandedness or letting his men do the dirty work, and Ben supposed he should at least admire Veers for that, even if the man’s ruthlessness was truly something disturbing. The man occasionally seemed to take to the idea of slaughter with a sort of passion that was enough to send shivers up Ben’s spine.

There was nothing wonderful about killing. None of it. Ben had killed before, but only because he had to, and in truth, he still felt regret over his killings. The occasional nightmares, for example – the fact that he had killed people in the Empire that no doubt still had families back home…

He had tried to refrain from taking lives when he could, and so did Mara; ever since the Death Star, she had tried to give her enemies another chance. But sometimes, in situations like this, when Imperial Walkers were shooting you down, sometimes negotiation wasn’t an option. Sometimes you had to make the crucial decisions that kept you from getting crushed by the terrible feet of Imperial Walkers.

“I don’t think we can protect two transports at a time,” Rieekan said. “I can try, but the energy shield isn’t going to be up much longer, and there’s going to be a whole fleet out there waiting for us.”

“I know,” Ben said. “But I don’t think we can hold out much longer, General. We need to get them out. As many as we can. I’m not suffering any more casualties like we did on Yavin.”

He could see the brief flash of pain in Rieekan’s face, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for it; Rieekan still felt a substantial amount of guilt for not being able to save everyone in Yavin’s base. He had been carrying that along with his leftover guilt from Alderaan – never mind that none of it was his fault in the slightest – and though Rieekan was not a man to show his emotions overtly (he was a stoic man, Rieekan, quiet, keeping a stiff upper lip and doing what needed to be done. A genuinely brave, good man, who didn’t feel comfortable with allowing his troops, or those around him, to see his guilt), he couldn’t entirely hide it. Not from Ben, at least.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I didn’t mean it that way, General.”

“I know,” Rieekan said. “You’re right, that’s all. We need to get everyone out. I just hope that we can protect the transports as long as we can.” He leaned into the comlink. “Launch patrols.”

Ben turned to one of his aides. “Evacuate remaining groundstaff. Get them onto the transports as soon as you can.”

The aide headed out.

Ben sighed. “I should get the others out as well.” As he headed out towards the hallway with Leia, helping the others get to their transports, he could hear distant sounds, things such as Han shouting at Chewbacca about some repair part that the latter had apparently placed incorrectly, Threepio bidding Artoo a quick farewell – “Artoo, you will look after Mistress Mara, won’t you? And do take care of yourself.” – and the astromech responding with an affirmative, mournful sounding series of beeps. And then Ben ran into Ada.

“Ben!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“You should get to the nearest transport,” Ben said.

“And leave you behind?” Ada said. “Stang it, Ben; I’m not leaving you to be killed by the Imps! And I’m not leaving Leia, Kitster, Sabe, Padme, Terminus or Mara either.”

_Terminus._ Of all the things that surprised Ben in that – he wasn’t surprised the least by Ada’s loyalty – he was surprised that she had mentioned Terminus in all of this. Ada used to hate and despise Terminus as much as anyone else in the Alliance, though, like Ben and Leia and Bail and Breha Organa and just about everyone on Alderaan who supported the Alliance, they had tried to hide it for the sake of keeping up appearances, making the Emperor believe that they were good citizens, minding their manners and keeping their heads down, all the while planning to eventually overthrow the Empire. But sometime in her confinement – and even thinking about it at times was enough to make Ben feel sick. He had come around to Terminus, but at the same time, thinking about the torture that his men had inflicted on Ada was enough to make him sick. And it made him want to ask Terminus, “Why? Why would you do this?” He had a feeling as to why (the Imperials wanted to get information out of her) and yet the idea of inflicting torture on anyone was enough to repulse him. – she and Terminus had developed a strange understanding. Ada had even attempted to defend him at his trial long after the first battle of Yavin, but long before the true siege of Yavin. They had eventually won out, but there were still some whispers around the base, whispers of how Terminus should not be allowed to walk free among the base, what if he betrayed them, if Ada had been suffering from some degree of Stockholm Syndrome, which was enough to make Ben angry; he didn’t know what kind of understanding Ada had formed with Terminus, but nobody had a right to speak of her that way. He had, of course, held back, as he was supposed to do, as a leader (along with Leia and others) of the Rebel Alliance. He was supposed to keep his temper, never lose control in front of his soldiers. But moments like this – that and the threat of the base collapsing around them, so much like Yavin long ago – were enough to make him almost tempted to.

And yet there was a degree of warmth in Ada’s loyalty, a comfort that could be taken from it. _Even while the base is about to collapse around our ears again, she won’t leave me behind. Or Terminus._ The fact that she had all but accepted Terminus as part of their circle of comrades…

It wasn’t as if Ben could disagree. In a strange way, after the events of the Death Star, Terminus had almost become a comrade. There was Mara, there was Kitster, Sabe, Padme, the crew of the _Tantive IV_ , the Rebel Alliance in general, Rogue Squadron, Luke (who had flown all the way from Tatooine in order to join the Alliance and had, in time, become part of their circle. Ben had developed a fondness for Luke, and in time, others did as well), Han and Chewbacca, and then there was Terminus.

_Who’d have known_?

Gently, Ben placed his hand on Ada’s shoulder. “Ada,” he said. “I’m going to be all right, I promise. But I’ve got to stay behind. The others need me.”

“You’ll be killed!”

“Ada,” Ben said. “We’re all at risk of being killed. All the time. But I need to do this. If I do this, I’ll have saved millions of lives. And Kitster, Terminus, Padme, Sabe…they’re going to be fine. I promise you.”

Ada took a deep breath. It seemed that she was obviously trying to come to terms with it. Then, “I shouldn’t have gotten this angry. It’s just…” She sighed. “What if you get killed by the Imps? Or captured? I mean, you were lucky to escape by the skin of your teeth that day on the _Tantive IV_ , you and Leia. They’ll…” She closed her eyes. “They’ll torture you, Ben.”

A wave of affection washed over Ben as he looked at her – Ada, strong, stubborn, caring, vulnerable Ada, trying to stay strong but in that moment, letting her worry and her agony all but course out in waves. She knew the torture of Imperial hands all too well, knew Imperial cruelty too well, had watched the destruction of their homeworld first hand. She had stayed strong a lot of the time, but right now, she was on the verge of breaking down at the idea of the Imperials capturing him. Letting that “stiff upper lip” attitude, that sort of stoicism, slip.

Ben placed a hand on her shoulder again. “Ada,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. Long ago.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ada said. She opened her eyes, dark brown eyes that seemed almost black in color, and they were gentler, softer. “You did what you could, Ben. Both you and Leia. I mean, it was bad, yes, but…we endured it if only for both your sakes. It was bad, but if they had gotten their hands on you or Leia, it would have been a lot worse.”

“You don’t need to do so much for me, Ada,” Ben said.

“Of course I do,” Ada said. “I mean, you’re my friend. One of my best friends, actually.” She smiled, and it was relieving to see on her face, a softness and brightness that, even in spite of the base on Hoth crumbling around their ears, despite the panic of the troops shooting their way in, the comm voice announcing that Imperial troops entered the base and Leia shouting to give the evacuation signal and for everyone to get to their transports, was a welcome sight to see.

Everything was going to hell, and yet, there was something about Ada’s presence – for she was his friend. His best friend – that was comforting.

“I know,” Ben said. He gave her a quick hug. “Good luck, Ada. I promise you, I’ll meet you at the rendez-vous point as soon as I can.”

Ada grinned. “You better.”

She headed off towards her transport. Ben watched her leave, a sudden worry filling his heart. _Be safe, Ada. Dear stars, be safe._

It was then that Han ran towards him. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you and Her Worship towards the nearest transports.”

Irritation spiked in Ben in spite of himself – did Han need to keep calling Leia that? – but he merely nodded. “Thank you.” Then, “Aren’t you going to take one of the transports as well?”

Han shook his head. “I’ve already got the _Falcon_. Chewie’s already done with repairs on it.” He shook his head. “Stang was _that_ a headache I don’t want to go through again. Hopefully it’s not going to act up somehow on our way out.”

“I hope not,” Ben said. Then, “Han, you can just head off towards the _Falcon_ – ’’

“I could,” Han said. “But honestly, you and Her Highness need to get out of here. Things are going crazy in this base.”

Ben couldn’t say that he blamed him. They headed off down the hallway, down towards the transport, and it was then that the base shook again. It was small at first, enough to allow small pieces of ice to crumble from the base as Ben, Han, Leia and eventually, Threepio and Sabe (according to her, Padme, Kitster and Terminus had made preparations to leave, taking Artoo with them. Something about “Dagobah” and “Jedi business”. Ben only hoped they made it out in time) made a run towards the transport. It was then, however, that there was a larger explosion.

Much larger.

And as they ducked, Sabe pulling Ben down, Han pulling Leia down, Ben realized, with a sinking heart, that their escape route had been cut off. Their way to the transports, perhaps their best hope of survival or at least not being captured and tortured, and the cave-in had cut it off entirely. Ben’s heart sank, and he took out his comlink.

“Transport,” he said, “This is Ben Organa. We’ve been cut off on our way to you; there was a cave-in. I don’t know where the explosion was, but it was pretty massive. I’m going to have to take the _Falcon_ , but I promise that I’m going to meet up with you as soon as I possibly can.”

Rieekan’s voice echoed over the comlink. “I understand, Senator. We’ve managed to get most people out on the transports.”

“Most?” Ben’s chest clenched. _If anyone was killed by the cave-ins, or by the Imperials…_

Rieekan’s voice was solemn. “There were some people shot down on their way to the transports. The Imperials got them.”

Ben swallowed. “Everyone else is all right?” Even as he said it, he felt a horrible, clenching feeling in his chest. _They shot them down. They were evacuees, and they were shot down. Who –_

But Ben had a feeling that he already knew the answer. The Imperials were ruthless, brutal, and following the destruction of the Death Star, they only got more desperate, and thus more dangerous. They no longer thought of the Rebels as just a nuisance at best; they wanted the Rebellion imprisoned or dead, but preferably dead.

“Yeah,” Rieekan said. “We had less casualties than Yavin, but we still lost a good amount of people that day.” He sighed. “Just be careful, Senator. There might be a lot of Imps coming your way.”

“I know. I’ll be careful. Organa out.”

Ben then dialed Ada. “Ada?” he said. “Are you there?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was clearly shaken. “There was a cave-in; I managed to survive it, but I’m cut off from the transport. Where are you?”

“I’m in the second hallway across from the hangar. Where are you?”

“I’m in the fourth hallway across from the exit. Bit shaken from nearly being buried alive, but I’m fine,” Ada said, a bit of wryness in her voice, “Thanks for asking, Ben.”

Ben took a deep breath. “We’re going to be heading towards the _Falcon_ , Han, me, Sabe, and Threepio. Chewbacca’s probably already at the hangar. You want to come with us?”

A chuckle. “Ben,” she said. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Well, come on,” Ben said, grinning. “No time to waste.”

“I’ll be right there,” Ada said. “There’s going to be Imps around, but I can handle them.”

“Gotcha. See you at the hangar.”

“Same here. Ada out.”

Ben put away the comlink. “Come on,” he said to Han. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They headed towards the hangar, Han occasionally berating Threepio for how slow he was as the protocol droid struggled to keep up with them. Ben tried to ignore the both of them, all while shooting at the Imperials, blaster set on STUN, all the while, just to get them out of the way. Finally, Ben bumped into Ada, who was badly scraped, covered in snow, but still alive.

They embraced quickly, and Ada said, “Thank the stars you’re okay.”

“You too,” Ben said. “How did it go getting to the hangar?”

“Other than the occasional Imp?” Ada shrugged. “Good. ‘Sides, at this point, making your way through a whole slew of Imps…it’s just another Monday at the Rebel Alliance.”

Ben chuckled in spite of himself. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get going.”

“What about Terminus and the others?” Ada said. “And Mara?”

“They’re probably going to be headed out,” Ben said. “Jedi business.”

“You mean, Mara’s leaving?”

Ben nodded. “We’ll talk more when we’re on the _Falcon._ Right now we need to get out of here.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

They ran towards the _Falcon_ , where Chewbacca was, and the Wookiee roared in relief to see the crew heading towards the ship. They sprinted up the ramp, Han into the cockpit, and Ben buckled himself in. Threepio did too, all while muttering about “Oh how I hate space travel”, Sabe followed, as did Ada, and Leia and Han got in the cockpit, Chewbacca taking the co-pilot’s seat. Han and Chewbacca flipped the switches, the latter eyeing one of the gauges with concern. A sudden worry rose in Ben’s chest; had Chewbacca and Han really fixed the _Falcon_?

_Of course they have,_ he thought. _Don’t be foolish. Both of them are accomplished mechanics, and both of them know what they’re doing. What is there to be worried about?_

And yet he felt the familiar “bad feeling” rising in him as he watched them flicking switches, and as he heard the familiar sound of Imperial stormtrooper footsteps gaining on them. _Han, I do hope that you know what you’re doing or this will be the shortest escape attempt we ever had…_

Finally, Han said, “How’s this?”

Chewbacca barked what Ben could only assume was a negative. He couldn’t say he was an expert on Shyrriwook – it was rusty, but he managed – but from the sound of it, it didn’t sound good.

“Would it help,” Leia said, a hint of sarcasm and irritation in her voice, “If I got out and pushed?”

_Oh boy._ The last thing that any of them needed was Han and Leia breaking out in an argument when they were very narrowly on the brink of being captured by stormtroopers. Ben sighed. “Easy there. Han, maybe you could try a different combination of switches?”

“Listen, kid,” Han said, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing all I can. Something just seems to be wrong with the ship.” He sighed. “She’s been more sluggish than usual, and I can’t pinpoint why. Still, we can get past that blockade. That baby’s got a few more surprises in her yet.”

_I certainly hope so._ It seemed as if the stormtroopers were getting closer. And worse, firing at the ship.

Han sighed. “Ben, you and Ada get to the turrets. It’ll take a while to get the engine fired out; might as well give the turrets a workout. Can’t say we’ve had one of those in a while.”

“Got it.” Ben unbuckled, as did Ada, and they ran towards the turret room. Ben could only hope that Mara, Kitster, Padme and Terminus got out all right.

As did just about everyone else.


	8. Chapter Eight: Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara, Vader, Terminus, Padme and Luke head off to Dagobah, and Han and co.'s Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day is just getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Honestly didn't expect Luke to be coming along with Mara and co. to be honest. Glad he did, but it did surprise me. Same with the whole stormtrooper thing, although I wish I'd addressed it a little more in story.

  
When the Imperial forces had shot down their snowspeeder, Mara had been all but catapulted towards the ground, her and Luke hitting the icy ground with a sort of impact that made her wonder if anything had been broken. She checked herself quickly. Nothing seemed to be broken. She then turned towards Luke, who had also been thrown from the snowspeeder.  
  
“You okay there, Luke?” she said.  
  
“I’m doing okay,” Luke said. “A bit scraped up, a bit on edge, but I’m okay.” He grinned; the left side of his face almost looked like Mara’s did when she had first escaped the wampa’s clutches. “Thanks for asking, Mara.”  
  
Mara reached in the snowspeeder quickly, handed Luke a medpac. Luke injected it into his arm and it seemed to at least stop him from shaking. Treating his wounds would have to wait later. Maybe Mara could try and learn whatever healing techniques she could from Padme, whatever the older woman had learned in order to heal Han’s broken nose.  
  
She was still a fledgling student, in truth; she was all right at lightsaber combat and the Force, but she wasn’t anywhere near Padme’s level of expertise. Maybe when they went to Dagobah, and learned from whoever the stang this Yoda person was, she could probably learn more.  
  
 _Wonder who Yoda is that could have Vader so wound up?_  
  
Behind them, there were shouts from the commanders to begin retreat, to fall back – the Imperials had managed to take down the energy shield. Mara’s heart sank. It was just like Yavin all over again; the Imperials were winning, and they were losing. She watched as the others fell back, the two of them lying in the snow…  
  
 _Clank. Clank._  
  
It was then that Mara looked up, momentarily startled out of her feelings of numbness and shock, only to see an Imperial walker headed her way. Her chest clenched, and she and Luke quickly dodged the Walker’s legs as the Walker headed towards the fallen snowspeeder, crushing it and whatever medical supplies it had on hand.  
  
Mara’s heart sank. Their supplies had just been destroyed. Still, she supposed, it was better the snowspeeder than them. The Walker loomed over them, giant, all but blotting out the sun, seeming more like a durasteel beast than anything else. There seemed to be no chance of stopping it, except…  
  
 _Wait._  
  
They were too close to go for the legs this time. After all, if Mara tried something like what she had done earlier with the other Walkers, she would no doubt bring the whole beast toppling down on her and Luke, and she didn’t want to do something like that. But perhaps she could take it down from the inside.  
  
She turned towards Luke. “You have any grenades left over?” she said.  
  
“Yeah,” Luke said. “They’re pretty few, but I think they’ll manage.” He furrowed his brow. “What are you planning, Mara? I don’t think even grenades are going to penetrate that sort of armor.”  
  
“I’m not attacking from the outside,” Mara said, grinning. She fired her harpoon up towards the durasteel underbelly of the Imperial Walker, riding the line of cable up there. She cut a hole in the durasteel underbelly, tossing the grenade inside.  
  
 _Perfect._  
  
Mara felt a twinge of regret at the idea of it killing the soldier inside. She was willing to do whatever she could in order to survive, but this…  
  
She’d done enough killing with things like the Death Star. She had felt it – the explosion that had vibrated through her mind, the screams of terror of the Imperials onboard. Some had told her that she had done what needed to be done, that the Imperials deserved it anyway, but Mara knew better. She had known better by reaching into the gunner’s mind at that crucial moment, and feeling his agony, and his guilt. She had known better from what Terminus had told her, from feeling those presences onboard the Death Star.  
The Empire itself had done plenty of wrong. But those individuals onboard the Death Star – not all of them were evil. And she had a feeling that the soldier inside was far from evil either. Some of the soldiers in the Walker seemed to take a perverse enjoyment in what they were doing, almost like they were teenagers shooting womprats in their T-16s, but this soldier was not like that.  
  
So she sent a suggestion into his mind.  _There’s a grenade in your Walker. Get out before it blows._  
  
She didn’t know if he would take the suggestion or not, but she had to at least try.  
  
He seemed to have taken the suggestion because he, a soldier who, Mara realized with a jolt, seemed no older than Dack Ralter, leapt out of the Walker at the crucial moment when Mara detached from her cable, falling to the ground just as the Imperial Walker blew to all hell. The soldier looked at her from under his helmet, an innocent face that, Mara realized, was the same age she was: twenty two. Wide-eyed, in shock.  
  
“You did that?” he said.  
  
Mara nodded.  
  
“And you told me to…to…” The soldier seemed to be gawking at her in amazement.  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said.  
  
“But why?” said the soldier.  
  
“There’s been enough blood today,” Mara said. “If you surrender right now, you’ll be spared.”  
  
The soldier met her eyes, still clearly astonished. “You’re just going to let me go?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said.  
  
The soldier swallowed. “Lady Ventress isn’t going to be pleased about this,” he said, “But I might as well.” He sighed. “I suppose I should have seen this coming when I signed up for this job. Thought it was about fighting for the Empire and serving my people, but…” He shook his head. “It’s been one hell of a minefield for the past few days. Still…you do have my thanks. Whoever you may be.”  
  
And he headed off. Mara watched him leave, feeling a sudden twinge of relief. Maybe he would rat her out later, now that he had seen her face, but even so, she had managed to save another life.  
  
Some would no doubt ask her why she did this, but Mara knew already. Compassion was not deserved. It was not a reward for virtue. It was for everyone, no matter who they were, no matter who they may be. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had taught her enough of that, as had Padme and the others. Compassion was a severely underused resource in a galaxy like this, in a galaxy so cruel and so thoughtless. She might as well at least do something good, even between the moments of blood coating her hands, the nightmares that wracked her skull every night, whether they be visions of the Emperor trying to convert her to his cause, or anything of that nature.  
  
Luke turned to her. “I don’t know what he’s going to do next,” he said, “But…you did the right thing, Mara. Having him die like that…you did the right thing.”  
  
Mara smiled. “It’s just good to know that I managed to spare someone today.” She sighed. “We had a lot of bloodshed today, didn’t we? Too much of it.”  
  
Luke nodded, somberly.  
  
It was then that the other transports touched down. Padme was in one of them, Artoo by her side, Vader in another, Terminus in another. Terminus exited the transport, walked towards Mara. “Thank the Force you’re all right,” he said.  
  
Mara grinned. “Good to see you, Father.” She then faltered. “Are Mom and Dad all right?  
”  
“They got to the transports in time,” Terminus said. “Others…were not so lucky.” A sigh echoed through his mask, a sad wisp in the Hoth air, as if the deaths that did occur on Hoth still weighed on him. And Mara doubted it was a stretch.  
  
Death seemed to weigh too much on Terminus’ mind, no doubt a leftover from when he had been in the Clone Wars and had seen people around him die. He had told her about some of them – about Ahsoka, Padme’s Padawan who had died during the Clone Wars, and Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, who had died because of what she believed in – peace in a time of war and hostility. Padme had told her of those people as well, and of General Grievous, a Kalee warrior who had been driven to do what he had done out of grief for his wife’s death in battle against the Huk, as well as his rage against the Republic for siding with the Huk instead of the Kalee, and Count Dooku, who had ultimately turned to the Dark Side if only out of good intentions. Both of whom had redeemed themselves, strangely, in their last moments if only to try and tell Padme that the Emperor had executed Order 66, the order to wipe out all Jedi everywhere (though there were Jedi who had escaped, such as Padme). Though by the time Padme had gotten back to Coruscant, it was too late.  
  
Terminus had told her about the Jedi he had killed, and Mara had sworn that though the vocabulator that he used did not allow much emotion to seep through, his voice had trembled, especially in talking about killing the younglings, and Mara had listened, horrified and steeped in pity at the same time. He had spoken of the Trade Federation as well, those who were corrupt but, as Terminus had said, barely deserved the fates they did. He had told her the story, Padme and Vader and Sabe chiming in order to help him finish parts that he couldn’t bear to finish.  
  
And Mara listened, repulsed, and yet, even in spite of herself, pitying her father.  
  
 _“Why did you tell me all of this?” she said._  
  
 _“To make you understand,” Terminus said. “All the people that I murdered when I was in the Emperor’s service – the murders were wrong, Mara. And perhaps in telling you that, I can keep my mistakes from being repeated in the future.”_  
  
 _“I don’t want to kill anybody,” Mara said._  
  
 _“I know,” Terminus said, and his voice seemed to become gentler this time. “But there are still instances of cruelty going on out in this galaxy. Too much cruelty, in fact.” He shook his head, and Mara could feel the sorrow radiating off him. “Perhaps, one day, it will end. Perhaps, one day, we will win this war and the Emperor’s reign of terror, the reign I helped start, in a way, will be over.”_  
  
 _“You didn’t start it alone,” Padme said. “We all had our part to play in it. The Emperor manipulated us like puppets, Master.”_ Master.  _As she had called him back so long ago before things had gone so horribly wrong. “And he played on your fears all too well. It’s hardly your fault.”_  
  
 _“You’re very kind, Padme,” Terminus said. “But it is my fault, in more ways than one. In a way, I helped kickstart the Emperor’s reign. By killing Mace Windu, by swearing myself before the Emperor, by leading the way in Order 66. I only hope that I can atone for my crimes.”_  
  
 _And Mara watched him. Terminus’ mask was usually inscrutable, almost unreadable, but here, she swore that she could read her father like an open book. How he turned his head away in shame and grief over what he had done, clearly trying to collect his breath, trying to get his breathing to obey him though the machines seemed to have helped it quicken, and thus, his mechanical breathing seemed to have become shallower, quicker, more frantic. She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him as best she could._  
 _“Father,” she said. “I will admit that before I knew who you truly were, I hated you. Seeing what you had done on the Holonet, things like that.”_  
  
 _“Quite understandable.” A hint of bitter humor in Terminus’ voice._  
  
 _“But,” Mara said, “Over the past few days, I’ve come to understand you a bit more. You’ve definitely changed a lot from when you were the Emperor’s servant. You and Vader both. You may not think so, but it is there. Trust me. And I think that in time, the both of you are going to go from the Emperor’s servants to the saviors of the galaxy. You’ve definitely done a lot of good, both of you, even if you don’t think you have.”_  
  
 _Silence._  
  
 _“You’re kinder than we deserve, Mara,” Terminus said. “But thank you.”_  
  
 _“Well, it’s true. Besides,” Mara said, smiling, “It’s pretty sweet in a way to see two former Sith Lords trying to do the right thing despite the protests of their inner jerk.”_  
  
 _Terminus chuckled. “We do try. Both of us.” He grew more serious. “I only hope we can continue to do it.”_  
  
 _“I think you can,” Mara said. “I think you can.”_  
  
Now Terminus looked away from her, guilt seeming to come over him – Mara could feel it streaming from him in waves. She placed a hand on his arm, trying to offer some form of comfort, and Terminus seemed to relax a bit. He seemed to take comfort from Mara’s presence nowadays, almost as if she, Sabe and Vader and others were the ones who really kept him sane. After a while, he turned back to her, his guilt and grief seeming to become quiet if only for a moment. “Thank you, Mara,” he said. He sighed. “It never truly gets easier. The deaths, the suffering…you think that you would, but in truth, it never gets easier. Sometimes it does, sometimes it becomes natural, and other times, it’s all too clear how terrible it is.”  
  
Mara nodded. She was still new to this war, she hadn’t seen the amount of suffering that her father had, and Padme had, and Vader had, and others had, but she could only imagine. Her father, witnessing the death of his mentor when he was only fourteen years old –  _fourteen_! Stang, that must have been bad for him – and later on, only witnessing more suffering in the Clone Wars, a war that had been led by a figure that the Republic was supposed to trust, had put their trust in…  
  
“Come on,” she said to her father, “We should get going. To Dagobah.”  
  
“You are right,” Terminus said. “There’s hardly any time to stand around talking when the Empire’s threatening to overrun us.” He sighed. “I am sorry, Mara. I suppose I got – ’’  
  
“No,” Mara said, “It’s okay. It really is okay.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t been at war as long as you have, but I can only imagine. It…it must have been really bad.”  
  
“That,” Terminus said, “Is an understatement. Come now, Mara; we should get off Hoth.”  
  
They started up the engines of the transports, and headed off Hoth, and towards Dagobah. It was then that Biggs’ voice echoed over the comm system. “You okay, Mara?”  
  
“Luke and I got in a bit of a scrape with an AT-AT,” Mara said, “But we’re okay.” She grinned. “We’re tough, we are.”  
  
Biggs chuckled. “That you are. We’re just headed towards the rendez-vous…what about you?”  
  
“I’ll meet up with you soon,” Mara said. “For now, I have some unfinished business. Jedi training related.”  
  
Silence. Biggs seemed to be deep in thought. Then, “But you’ll see us in a few days or so, right?”  
  
“Of course I will,” Mara said. “Don’t worry. Good luck, Biggs.”  
  
“You too, Mara.”  
  
The transmission ended, and Mara sat back, sighed. She didn’t know about Yoda, or Dagobah, or why, exactly, Vader hated him so much, or at least the idea of Mara training with him, but at least, Mara knew that she had to go there. She had known ever since the first Battle of Yavin that she would need to go there eventually, to go and see him, train with him, to complete her training so she was able to face Ventress and the Emperor. And to find out more about her Jedi heritage – she had bits and pieces now, but it seemed like there were so many things yet unknown, so many things yet hidden from her that she had yet to understand. Parts of her heritage from Naboo, where her mother lived, her heritage from the planet of Stewjon, where her father had come from, her Jedi heritage, and so much more. So much that she had yet to understand. So much that she had yet to have answers for.  
  
Mara set the hyperspace coordinates to Dagobah, Padme, Terminus and Vader following, and she sat back, looking at the seemingly endless depths of hyperspace, uncertain of the future that now awaited for her – she still had yet to train to be a Jedi, and the Rebel base was gone, and they had lost so many good people as well as what she thought would be a source of refuge for them. How long would they have to keep running? – but willing to meet it nonetheless.  
  
***  
  
The problem with fighting off all of the stormtroopers is that somehow, Ada thought as the stormtroopers continued to flood the hangar, it seemed as if they kept coming. Whole floods of them, in white armor, dashing towards them; it was only through sheer luck (as well as very good aim) that she and Ben managed to hold them off, shooting at them repeatedly.  
  
“Hope Han manages to get the engine running soon,” Ada said. “I mean, if he doesn’t get off the ground as soon as he can, we’re going to have a whole shipload of stormtroopers charging up our loading ramp.”  
  
“He’s doing the best he can.” Ben, trying to stay level-headed, optimistic. Ada envied him, because right now, she was anxious, and not having particularly optimistic expectations in terms of them getting out of the hangar on Hoth. Especially with the base seeming to collapse around them. If Han didn’t get them off the ground, they would probably be permanent residents there.  
  
She shot down another stormtrooper who ran towards the  _Falcon_ , shooting further at stormtroopers even as they rushed at the ship, shooting their blasters almost wildly, letting their blaster bolts all but pebble against the  _Falcon’s_  hull. Ada shot at another series of stormtroopers, and then turned to Ben. “How are you doing?”  
  
“Doing my best,” Ben said, “Considering the circumstances.” He sighed. “I just hope that the others are all right. That Mara, Padme, Kitster and Terminus just got out of here.”  
  
Ada shot down another stormtrooper that was heading towards the ramp. “Yeah,” she said. “I hope so too.”  
  
They continued shooting at the stormtroopers, and most of them managed to get down, but even that wasn’t enough to ward them off. Han’s voice sounded from the cockpit, sounding anxious. “Bad news, you two – looks like we got some stormtroopers in the main hold.”  
  
 _Oh, brilliant._  
  
“We’re on our way over, Han,” Ada said. “Don’t worry.”  
  
And they ran towards the main hold. The stormtroopers raised their blasters, Ada barely managing to dodge – she swore one blaster bolt grazed her shoulder, and she winced at not just the feel of it barely skimming her shoulder, the burning sensation, but what could have happened if it had gotten buried in her shoulder.  
  
She raised her blaster, shot at the stormtrooper. He fell. Ada turned her blaster towards another stormtrooper. Ben had already set for STUN -- something, Ada thought, she would have to chastise him for later. While Ben was genuinely well-intentioned and well-meaning, there was something in Ada that wanted to shout at him that it was okay to kill if you needed to do so. If you absolutely needed to.  
  
Considering that their ship was currently under attack by stormtroopers, this was one of those times.  
  
Finally, the main hold was cleared of stormtroopers. In the cockpit, Han sighed. “All right,” he said, “Let’s get out of there.”  
  
Ada couldn’t disagree with that.  
  
They lifted off into the sky, away from Asajj Ventress and her stormtroopers, and hopefully, Ada thought, towards the rendez-vous point. At least assuming that nothing got in the way of their attempt to get to the Rebel base. Whether there had been something off about the repairs that Chewbacca hadn’t thought about, or anything of that sort. But there couldn’t be anything wrong with the repairs, could there be?  
  
 _Let’s hope there isn’t. But then again…what could possibly go wrong?_  
  
And so they lifted off into the sky, and, hopefully, towards a better destination.  
  
***  
  
By the time that Asajj Ventress herself reached the hangar, it was already too late. The  _Millennium Falcon_ had blasted off into the sky, and the Kenobi girl – the Kenobi girl, along with Vader, Terminus, Padme and Sabe, had slipped through Ventress’ fingers. Already, a spike of rage went through Ventress’ chest; she had been so quick to catching the Rebel who had destroyed the Death Star, who she had been so very near to shooting down if it weren’t for the smuggler, and yet again, her quarry had escaped her.  
One of the stunned Imperial soldiers – Ventress could only assume that it was some form of Ben Organa’s damnable lack of desire to kill; he would shoot when he needed to, but he would set for stun. Some form of conscience that was almost Jedi-like in nature, or like the Mandalorian Duchess, Satine Kryze; she would no doubt endorse that sort of weakness, never mind that neither of them truly understood. If someone needed to be killed, you killed them. There was no use being weak about it, or indecisive; you killed them. Then again, she supposed, perhaps it was no surprise that a child of Alderaan would be so weak. Those such as Satine Kryze would be proud of him, no doubt – rose from his position on the floor, white as a sheet. “My Lady,” he said. “Forgive me. I have failed you.”  
It was not his fault, truly. After all, all he had done was try to stop the Rebels, only to be defeated. But already, Ventress was furious, so furious that she needed to take it out on at least one of her soldiers, and one of those who had failed was right there, in front of her…  
  
She clenched her fist, Force Crushing the Imperial soldier, listening to the gruesome sound of him choking, of bones breaking, before she let him fall to the floor, his body limp and lifeless. She turned to other soldiers that had just flooded in to discover the gruesome scene, faces pale as ghosts.  
  
“Well,” she said, “Do you understand now what happens when you fail me?”  
  
They nodded, clearly frightened – Ventress did not know if they truly understood, but they were frightened, and being frightened was good. Others would no doubt object to such an idea, but they would be truly ignorant about the Empire, about the Sith, to assume otherwise. Fear was enough to keep soldiers in line – fear of failure, fear of angering their superior. Perhaps a few foolish soldiers would attempt to rise up and rebel against such a thing, but most were sensible enough to understand the idea of falling in line, and that was enough.  
  
“Let us go then,” she said. “I will deal with the  _Millennium Falcon_  myself.”  
  
The Kenobi girl was long gone, had slipped into hyperspace long after all that had happened, but fortunately for Ventress, the  _Millennium Falcon_ was not gone yet. And though she had no opportunity to capture Mara Kenobi, at least she could deal with the smuggler that had helped rob her of her victory above Yavin IV, and had helped cause the Empire so much trouble since then.  
  
Han Solo had meddled in the affairs of the Empire for the last time. It was time to end it – permanently. 


	9. Chapter Nine: A Reunion Of Friends and Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and Luke meet Yoda (and Padme, Vader and Terminus are reunited), and Han and co. run into their first spot of really deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This is one of my favorites, actually. Writing the trivia game that Padme and Mara play, writing some of the banter, writing the talk with Yoda, etc. It was just a lot of fun.

The hyperspace route to Dagobah seemed to take forever.  
  
As Padme looked out the window of her transport, feeling almost dizzy as she looked out at the streaking blue lines of hyperspace and the stars speeding by, she could not help but feel as if the hyperspace route seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. That was the way of hyperspace travel, but even so, she could not help but feel terribly lonely in that void, a long, streaking, electric blue void that seemed to stretch out into eternity. More than that, she could not quite ignore the anxiety that was now building in her chest like a knot that could not be loosened. Though she tried to recite the Jedi Code to herself, tried to meditate, she could not shake the feelings of anxiety in her.  
  
She had not seen Master Yoda in years. Ever since his defeat at the hands of the Emperor, the older Jedi Master had gone into hiding on Dagobah, and when Padme had come to see him, long after her horrible, draining fight with Terminus on the planet of Sullust, there was a sort of heaviness and a sense of defeat hanging over the aged Jedi Master, as if he had failed somehow. And no matter how much Padme tried to comfort him, to tell him that there was nothing that he could have done, that it was hardly his fault, the Jedi Master had maintained that it was still his fault.  
  
 _“Still, hope there is. And in time, face the Emperor again we will, and save this galaxy._ ”  
  
Padme could only hope. The last time they had faced the Emperor, they were drastically outmatched; from what Yoda had told her about the Emperor, it seemed almost as if he had become a storm of the Dark Side itself, pushing around Republic Senate seats towards Yoda as if they were no more than bumper cars, knocking him across the room, all but keeping him on his toes in the art of lightsaber combat…  
  
And then there was the matter of the disastrous attempt to arrest the Chancellor. When he had defeated all the Masters save Mace Windu with one stroke. And Obi-Wan…  
  
Obi-Wan had thought that he was doing the right thing. The Jedi thing. The problem was that the Jedi way was not always the right way. Perhaps vigilante justice was not the way of the Jedi, but sometimes you needed to do what needed to be done.  
  
Although, Padme thought, there still could have been a better option. Bringing the Chancellor in, for example. Her parents had impressed it into her mind from a young age the value of finding a peaceful solution in conflict, as well as the value of compassion, and she learned plenty more of those things when she was still in Sabe’s service when the latter was Queen. If they had brought the Chancellor in…  
  
But even so, the Chancellor would have fought them. Perhaps don’t kill the Chancellor unless it was a matter of life or death. The matter of necessity, especially in the matter of life or death, was quite a powerful factor in making decisions involving one’s enemies. If they had no choice, they would do what they had to. Padme had been willing to do what she had to before, after all.  
  
And yet…  
  
Padme’s thoughts were cut off by the sound of Mara’s voice. “You doing okay, Padme?”  
  
“I am,” Padme said. “You…sensed something was wrong?”  
  
A faint chuckle. “I wouldn’t call my Force perceptions completely refined, but something’s been chewing on you like…I don’t know, a krayt dragon with a fresh meal.”  
  
Padme winced. “One could argue that,” she said.  
  
“You want to talk about it?”  
  
Padme sighed. It was very well that she had to tell Mara about it; after all, there were plenty of things that Mara still needed to know. “I admit that I am worried about Master Yoda,” she said.  
  
“Why?” Mara said. “I mean, you trust him, don’t you?”  
  
“It’s not the matter of trust,” Padme said. “I merely…worry about how he may react to Vader and Terminus.” She sighed. “Perhaps he has become more open-minded over the years he was on Dagobah, but even so, I do worry. He isn’t what you call fond of the Sith.”  
  
“But Vader and Terminus have redeemed themselves,” Mara said. “What’s there to worry about?”  
  
“Terminus,” Padme said, “Was once close to Master Yoda. If I recall, Yoda knew him since he was a youngling, and was quite fond of him. He…” Padme closed her eyes. She could still remember the heaviness in Master Yoda’s voice that terrible day when they had seen the security recordings, and the sadness that radiated from Master Yoda almost in waves. “He took it quite hard when Obi-Wan fell. He didn’t show it outright – he’s a very stoic Jedi, you see. Always keeping his emotions in check, always calm, subscribing to the idea of ‘there is no emotion, there is peace’ almost to the letter. But I could tell that it had devastated him.”  
  
“I can see that.” Mara exhaled sharply, clearly startled, over the comm. “Stang, that must have been bad for him.”  
  
“It was,” Padme said. “And Vader…Vader’s been an old enemy of the Jedi. In addition, Master Yoda doesn’t seem to have much faith in the idea of redemption.” Indeed, instances such as the matter of Dooku and others had left Master Yoda’s faith in redemption shaky at best. Dooku had been hard for him – especially since Dooku was once his Padawan – and indeed, just about all of this war had been hard for him. To say he had lost faith would be putting it mildly. He didn’t show it outright, but Padme could hear it in his words that his faith had become shaky at best.  
  
“So I’m guessing we’re not going to get a warm welcome from your former Master?” Mara said.  
  
“I don’t know,” Padme said. “Perhaps he’s grown kinder over the years. But in truth, I’m not sure. And I don’t know how Vader’s going to react either. He seemed very opposed to the idea of training you in the Jedi ways, no doubt because he believed Yoda would try to…I suppose brainwash you to the old teachings.”  
  
Mara snorted. “Well, Vader’s worrying too much,” she said. “And he’s being stubborn and ridiculous.”  
  
Padme chuckled. “That is true.” She faltered. “But people don’t often change in terms of their convictions, or their beliefs. People aren’t willing to change them that easily, or admit when they’re wrong. They can be stubborn that way.”  
  
“Maybe that won’t be the case here,” Mara said.  
  
“I can only hope.”  
  
They continued through hyperspace in a long silence before Mara said, “You know something, Padme? How about we play a bit of a game to take our minds off all this?”  
  
“How can I possibly refuse?” Padme said, smiling.  
  
Mara laughed. “Okay. How about a bit of Galactic History trivia? You can go first. You’re the expert on this, after all.”  
  
“Expert?” Padme said. She chuckled. “I’m flattered. All right, Mara, what were the two siblings that discovered a new hyperspace route in order to pay off their debts, and thus inadvertently started the Great Hyperspace War?”  
  
A pause. Padme could almost imagine the twenty-two-year-old frowning at the dashboard of her ship, trying to figure out the answer. Then, “I’m honestly kind of stumped on this one, Padme. Sorry.”  
  
Padme smirked. “Jori and Gav Daragon.”  
  
“Stang it!” Mara said. “I should have remembered that. I thought you mentioned the two of them in one of our lessons.” She sighed. “I don’t know if the two of them were geniuses or complete morons.”  
  
“They were misled,” Padme said. “They were reckless, but they were ultimately misled.”  
  
A sigh. “I suppose. Okay, Master. When did the Corellians discover New Plympto?”  
  
And on and on it went, Padme managing to get most of Mara’s questions correct, Mara occasionally stumbling over some (such as the matter of the questions involving things such as the Infinite Empire and early Jedi and Sith history; Padme would need to help her brush up on that. Things like that were all but essential to Mara’s Jedi training, in learning about her heritage) but mostly managing to get the answers right. Eventually, there was a faint beeping from Padme’s console. “Looks like we’re finally coming up on Dagobah,” she said.  
  
“Oh, thank the Twin Suns themselves,” Mara said.  
  
Padme grinned. “Indeed?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired of being cooped up in this transport. If not for the trivia game, I probably would have lost my mind a bit.”  
  
“I can’t blame you.” Padme liked space travel a bit more than, say, Obi-Wan in his earlier days (before he learned to warm up to it; he had joked occasionally about it being a “necessary evil”), but she couldn’t deny that the hyperspace route to Dagobah was getting truly tiring. She couldn’t wait to feel her feet on solid ground again.  
  
Unfortunately, their return to solid ground didn’t go as smoothly as planned. The moment they entered Dagobah’s cloudy atmosphere, the scopes started to go haywire. R2 tweeted in alarm, and Padme could vaguely hear Mara’s voice crackling over the comm, seeming almost as if it was breaking up…  
  
“Just stay calm,” Padme said. “Start the landing cycle.”  
  
“I can’t see anything!”  
  
“Just stretch out,” Padme said. “Use the Force. You can probably feel me, Terminus and Vader, can’t you?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. “I think I can. I follow.” She sighed. “Kind of a pain to see in here, but I think I can follow a bit.”  
  
“Good,” Padme said. “Keep following me.”  
  
By the time they landed on Dagobah, Padme thought, it was fortunate that they didn’t manage to crash the transports. Terminus exited, seeming clearly rattled, and Padme thought almost of the times that they had had rough landings, rough enough to at least startle her usually unflappable former master.  
  
“Another happy landing,” he said, and he sounded, almost, like the old Obi-Wan, remarking flippantly on an otherwise rattling situation, managing to lighten the mood if only a little. In spite of herself, Padme felt a flood of giggles threaten to rise in her, and she covered her mouth with her hands.  
  
Terminus cocked his head. “Is there something particularly amusing?” he said, but he didn’t seem angry, merely curious.  
  
“I’m fine,” Padme said. “It’s just…it reminds me of the old days, is all.”  
  
“Ah, yes,” Terminus said. “I do remember those landings in great and vivid detail. I would prefer not to, actually.” His tone, however, was light. “Still, I am reminded too much of it. Considering that Vader was flying about as if he had been on a Corellian ale drinking binge – ’’  
  
“You’re being unfair,” Vader said, stepping out of his transport. His tone, however, was just as light. “I did the best I could considering the circumstances.”  
  
“He did.” Padme, this time, stepping out of her transport with Luke in tow. “Besides, if I remember correctly, Obi-Wan, you’ve had your share of rough landings yourself.”  
  
“If you’re referring to that one landing on Mandalore,” Terminus said, “That was barely my fault – ’’  
  
Mara and Luke, meanwhile, looked at one another with some confusion and curiosity even as the others chuckled – even Artoo beeped in clear amusement after his earlier, seemingly rattled state over their rough landing. Now that they were out of the transports and on a – relatively – safe planet, they didn’t need to worry much. At least, Padme hoped. For now, the worry about what would happen with Master Yoda was a faint murmur in the back of her mind. But they would have to be careful. There were still plenty of creatures on Dagobah, waiting to strike.  
  
“Come,” Padme said. “There’s much to be done. And be careful.”  
  
***  
  
“I saw ‘em! I saw ‘em!”  
  
Up in the cockpit, to say that Han Solo and the others were in a lot of trouble was a lot like saying that Hoth was not an ideal place to spend your vacation – it was both obvious and a massive understatement. They had managed to get off Hoth in time long after the stormtroopers’ siege of their ship – and of course they had some stormtrooper prisoners onboard. Which worried Han. The fact that they had those guys on board was going to cause them plenty of trouble, such as if the stormtroopers tipped the Empire off about where they could possibly be going. And besides, what was Ben expecting Han to do? Serve the lot of them tea? But that was temporarily driven from Han’s mind by the sight of the two Star Destroyers, massive pale shapes in the star-flecked galaxy, looming in their path, blocking their way to a possible escape.  
  
Chewie, meanwhile, seemed to be going completely mad, barking and howling frantically. Han rubbed his temples; he could swear that a massive headache was already building up. Not just from Chewie’s howling, but also from the sheer this-is-completely-not-good levels of their situation.  
  
“What is it?” Leia said.  
  
“Star Destroyers,” Han said. “Coming right at us. They must have been waiting for us to escape Hoth.” He sighed. “If we don’t get the stang out of there, we’re going to end up as prisoners. Or worse.” Ada hadn’t talked much about her time in the Imperial prisons, but Han could get the general idea from the haunted look in her eyes, the scars that still remained on her face, and a fierce determination that flashed in her eyes to overthrow the Empire as much as she possibly could.  
  
“How many?” Leia said.  
  
“A whole bunch of them,” Han said. The lot of them, massive in the darkness of space, looming like giant predators waiting to swallow the  _Falcon_  whole, a whole fleet of predators waiting to suck them into their grip and thus interrogate them…  
  
They’d been lucky to escape Imperial scrutiny when they had infiltrated the Death Star, thanks to Leia and Ben being both really brave and really crazy, as well as a hell of a lot of luck. But Han already had a feeling that they wouldn’t be as lucky this time.  
  
 _Of course we will._ They just needed to find a way to outrun them. Throw them off, at least somehow.  
  
Goldenrod, of course, took this time to barge his way into the cockpit. “Sir! Might I suggest – ’’  
  
Han’s headache only spiked. “Shut him up or shut him down!”  
  
“Who?” Ada said.  
  
“Anyone!” Han snapped.  
  
“Sir, it’s urgent –’’  
  
“Right now,” Han said, “I’m trying to find a way to escape the Imperials. Unless you’ve got some bright ideas, Goldenrod – ’’  
  
“Han.” Ben’s voice. “Calm down. We’re going to get out of this. Trust me.”  
  
Han sighed. He could only hope. “Chewie,” he said. “Check the deflector shield.”  
  
Chewie turned towards him. “ _The deflector shield is down._ ”  
  
“Stang it.” Han sighed. “We can still outmaneuver them, though.”  
  
He steered the  _Falcon_  upwards. Behind him, he heard Leia’s alarmed, “What are you doing?”  
  
Han grinned at her. “Outmaneuvering them.”  
  
And with that, Han rushed the  _Falcon_ towards the Star Destroyers. To many people, such a plan would have been crazy, but to Han Solo, Captain of the  _Millennium Falcon_ , “crazy” was just another word for “crazy enough to work”. The TIE fighters were already on their tail, and Ada, clearly anxious, seemed to be about to speak up when the  _Falcon_  dipped down between the gap in two Star Destroyers. The Star Destroyers scraped over one another, and Han, looking back at it, grinned.  _Crazy enough to work._  
  
Ada, meanwhile, seemed to be both relieved and rattled. “That’s all well and good, Han,” she said, “But you realize we have three TIE fighters on our tail?”  
  
“Not for long.” Han punched in the coordinates for the rendez-vous point for the Rebel Alliance, and waited, expectantly, for the familiar, dizzying view of hyperspace.  
  
Nothing. The engine made sounds that seemed, worryingly, as if it were groaning. Han, frustrated, tried again, but there was still the star-studded nothingness of the galaxy ahead of them, and the flashes of explosions around the _Falcon_.  
Han shook his head, rubbed his temples again. “We’re really in trouble.”  
  
“If I may say so, sir,” Goldenrod said, “I noticed earlier that the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged. It’s impossible to go to light-speed!”  
  
Han sighed. If it was possible for someone like Goldenrod to say, “I told you so”, this was that moment (though Goldenrod himself was too generally innocent and well-meaning – to the point he got on Han’s nerves – to really say something like that). “Right,” he said. “Chewie and I are going to have to – ’’  
  
Another explosion. And, further up, the feel of the ship rocking. “What the hell was that?” Han said.  
  
Leia spoke up then. “Asteroids!”  
  
She was right. Far ahead of them were the familiar, giant shapes of asteroids.  _As if this day couldn’t get any better._  
  
“Chewie,” Han said, “Set two-seven-one.”  
  
“What are you doing?” Leia said. “You’re not actually thinking of going  _into_  the asteroid field?”  
  
“Sir,” Goldenrod said, “The possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately three thousand, seven hundred and twenty to one!”  
  
“Never,” Han said, barely avoiding an asteroid coming their way, “Tell me the odds.”  
  
“How do you know you’re not going to get us killed?” Ben said.  
  
Han sighed. “Kid,” he said, “They’d be crazy to follow us, wouldn’t they?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I think you underestimate the Empire,” Ben said.  
  
“Do we really have any other options, kid?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“No,” Ben said. “I guess we don’t. I just hope you’re making the right decision.”  
  
They went deeper into the asteroid field, Goldenrod shuddering and muttering about “Oh, this is suicide!”, the other passengers tense (the stormtroopers on board, Han thought, were probably thankfully stunned. Then again, considering how the  _Falcon_  came close to crashing into asteroids, it was probably a miracle they weren’t awake by now. Either Ben’s STUN was pretty heavy, or the stormtroopers were heavy sleepers), and Han himself feeling the muscles in his shoulders turn into knots as he hunched up near the control panel, trying to steer them out of the way of a blast from one of the Star Destroyers shooting at the asteroids, or out of a stray asteroid.  _They hit us, we’re dead, they keep missing us, we’re dead. But I’ll be damned if we die tonight. No one tell me the odds._  
“You don’t have to do this to impress me,” Leia said.  
  
“It’s not about that,” Han said. “Well, fine, maybe somewhat.” He gave her a cocky if strained grin.  
  
“Well, it isn’t worth it,” Leia said. “If we stay out here much longer, we’re going to be pulverized.”  
  
A smaller asteroid bounced off the  _Falcon’s_  cockpit, fortunately not shattering it (though that was a pretty small comfort, Han thought). They had to get to some sort of safety, but they couldn’t get out of the asteroid field (Han wondered, when Leia had said that she hoped to see the day he was wrong, if she had pictured something like this. And then an idea struck him.  
  
The larger asteroids had craters in them, craters that sometimes people would mine in order to find valuable things inside, whether it be fuel or other things. Perhaps, at least, they could stay the night in one of those. At least, Han thought, until they had the  _Falcon_  repaired, and then they could rendez-vous with the Rebellion.  
  
At least it would be one hell of a story to tell Rieekan and the others when they showed up.  _Sorry we’re late, General, but we had a rough day. We had a chase through an asteroid field! Yeah, it was pretty scary at first, but we managed to outrun those Imps, you should have seen it…_  
  
If they showed up, that is.  
  
“I’m going in closer to one of the big ones,” Han said.  
  
“Closer?” just about everyone in the ship practically shouted. It was a miracle they didn’t wake up their currently-unconscious stormtrooper prisoners.  
“Yeah.”  
  
They dived in closer to one of the larger asteroids – the ones, Han thought, that were the size of moons, the ones that could probably crush a city, the types that even thinking about them were enough to give him the chills, the thought of their size and power. Chewie grunted a question, and Han said, “Yeah, I think that one looks pretty good, Chewie. Let’s go in.”  
  
They dived in deeper. Behind them, pursuing TIE fighters swooped in for them like mynocks would their prey, but the asteroids knocked them out of the sky, barely missing the  _Falcon_. The ship shook, and Goldenrod placed his hands over his eyes. “Oh, this is suicide! Captain Solo, I beg you – stop this before it’s too late!”  
  
“Take it easy, Goldenrod,” Han practically growled, “I’ve nearly found one.”  
  
Chewie had pointed it out to him on the viewscreen – a giant asteroid with a gaping crater inside. Han knew they had to be careful – craters like these could hold valuable materials, but also some pretty dangerous creatures – but in this situation, it wasn’t like they had any choice in the matter.  
  
“Yeah,” Han said, “That one should do. That one should do nicely.”  
  
“Captain Solo,” Goldenrod said, “Where are we going?”  
  
“The last place the Imps will think to look.”  
  
They swooped deep into the crater of the asteroid, into the dark tunnel that seemed to stretch out for miles and miles. It seemed almost slick, Han thought, strangely so, almost like the throat of a living creature than anything else. The rest of the crew was quiet; even Goldenrod, for a moment, stopped his complaining, though they seemed more quiet with anxiety. Behind him, Leia said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”  
  
“Yeah. Me too.”  
  
The  _Falcon_  docked at the bottom of the asteroid. Once they were done, Han sighed with relief. “When all this is over,” he said, “I’m going to dock at the nearest cantina and have a drink.”  
  
Mutters of “hear hear” resonated from the group behind him. Sabe took the opportunity to speak. “Han,” she said, “Are you certain that this is a good idea?”  
  
“Not like we really have much choice,” Han said. “The Imps are still out there, and they’re not going to rest until we’re captured or dead.” He sighed.  _So you’ve hidden out at the bottom of an asteroid, Solo. Great. Now what? You’ve got unconscious Imperial prisoners in the back of the Falcon, who may rat you out to Ventress and her goons if they can, and outside is a choice between capture and torture and getting smashed to bits by the asteroids. And your hyperdrive is busted. What are you going to do next?_  
  
He turned towards Chewie. “Chewie,” he said. “You’re going to need to help me out with the hyperdrive.” He turned back towards the crew. “Anyone else who’s good with repairs, I could also use some help.”  _Where is Kitster when you need him?_ Unfortunately, Kitster was probably stuck on some backwater planet working on Jedi training with Mara, Terminus and Padme. And Luke, probably along as a casual pal, at least. Artoo was off on that planet as well, so they couldn’t have a case of his mechanical skills managing to help fix the busted hyperdrive. He wished that Kitster were here; Kitster at least would know what the hell was up with the hyperdrive. Maybe he and Chewie had damaged it inadvertently while working on repairs? Something seemed to have gone off while he and Chewie were fixing the _Falcon_ …  
  
“What about the stormtroopers?” Ben said.  
  
“You can probably look after them,” Han said. “I mean…they’re kinda your responsibility, kid.”  
  
“I’ll help,” Sabe said. “I’m no doctor, but my medical skills are decent, at least. Besides, these men need care, and treatment.”  
  
 _If you say so._ From Han’s experience, stormtroopers were ruthless, carrying out the Emperor’s orders with a sort of cold detachment that was chilling at most. Despite their ridicule in some places for their less-than-accurate skills with a blaster (at least, some of them), they were intimidating in and of themselves, a rush of white against the battlefield, charging towards you, ready to blow you to bits. With either Terminus or, now, Ventress behind them, it only made things worse.  
  
Still, Han could vaguely remember some of the students he had met in the Academy when he had been training to be an Imperial, being young and misguided at the time (before, of course, he learned the truth). They’d been like him – young, fresh-faced, a bit nervous. There were some psychopaths in the mix, of course, but some of the Imperial soldiers who had signed up seemed at least decent.  
  
And the ones who were clones…Padme had said it herself when she had told him and Mara about them. They’d been decent. Far from bad people. They were merely doing what the Emperor told them, which didn’t really make things better, but definitely was enough to leave a mark on Han. Thinking about them before they had become the Emperor’s servants…  
  
He had thought that he saw some advertisements for them when he was a boy and the Clone Wars were still raging on, advertisements that showed the clonetroopers with various mottos of WE SERVE AND PROTECT, and other things. They’d been taught back then to see the clones as soldiers and allies, protecting the average citizen from the vague, looming threat of the Separatists, a seemingly unstoppable force threatening to overturn the Republic and all it stood for.  
Things had definitely changed a lot since then.  
  
Still, Han nodded. “Do what you’ve got to,” he said. “Me? I’m going to fix the hyperdrive.”  
  
He, Chewie, Ada and Goldenrod then crossed over towards the engine room, while Sabe, Leia and Ben went to medbay. They had a lot to do.  
  
Best, Han thought, to get to it.  
  
***  
  
 Nighttime came over Dagobah, and already, Mara thought, she was irritated. First there had been the matter of that one monster that had nearly gotten Artoo (the astromech was lucky that he didn’t taste very good, Mara thought, or he would have most likely been a goner in no time), and then there were other monsters in Dagobah that decided to try and terrorize the group and make their attempts to find Yoda, to say the least, all the more difficult. By the time they were slogging through the mud, the group of them were already tired and tense, and more than that, Mara was starting to wonder if there was really a point to this, if coming out to Dagobah was a good idea, and if all of this was really worth it just in order to train with Yoda.  
Granted, she supposed that Padme did have a point in terms of her needing to expand her Jedi training. There was definitely that, Mara thought. But at the same time, she didn’t know if Yoda would really be here on Dagobah, if it would even be worth it in order to meet with him…  
  
She sighed, sat down on one of the nearest rocks. Everything about this damned planet had her on edge. Everything about it made her wonder if she was somehow being watched by something she couldn’t quite see. If she was being followed. If they were being followed, for that matter. Artoo scooted up beside her, still muddy and irritable and covered with gunk after nearly being swallowed by the swamp monster that reminded Mara too much of the dianoga in the trash compactors on the Death Star, except, of course, slightly sleeker.  
  
“Hey,” Mara said. “You okay?”  
  
Artoo beeped softly.  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “You said it, old pal. I mean, I didn’t think that coming out here would be that bad of an idea, but I guess it is.” She sighed. “Strange thing is, I’ve been here before.”  
  
Padme turned to her. “Have you?”  
  
Mara supposed it was best to start telling Padme about the dreams. The dreams she occasionally had about the place. And the nightmares she had about Palpatine, trying to convert her, about the Rebellion being crushed, things she couldn’t say were visions or just psychological consequences of the base on Yavin IV burning down. “I’ve just had dreams about it is all.”  
  
“Perhaps the Force was trying to lead you here?”  
  
Mara snorted. “Did the Force foresee that we were almost eaten by the resident monsters of Dagobah?”  
  
Padme chuckled softly. Then, “Perhaps not. But I think the Force has led us in the right direction. Yoda may show up in time. Perhaps sooner than we think.” She sighed. “I’m going to go look for him.”  
  
“Be careful,” Mara said.  
  
“I will.”  
  
Padme headed off into the fog, and Mara turned to look at Terminus and Vader. “She’s going to be all right, won’t she?”  
  
Terminus nodded. “She will,” he said. “She is tough. She always has been.”  
  
After what seemed like an hour, Padme returned, covered in filth – apparently she had been fighting off more monsters of Dagobah that had decided to pester her. “Yoda wishes to see you,” she said. “It took a while to convince him, but he’s willing to see you. Follow me.”  
  
Mara and the others got up – they would need to get out of the pouring rain – and headed towards the hut.  
  
The hut itself was small, Mara thought, but nonetheless, it was cozy, in a way, the warm light flowing through it, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace, and chairs big enough for the group of them. Yoda himself was not someone that Mara would have suspected – she had almost pictured someone tall and grand and wise, a great warrior, perhaps, but instead, Yoda was small, green, wrinkled, probably going up to her knee at least (which was enough to make Mara a bit uneasy). Still, there was something about his face, she thought, the odd, wrinkled face with ears that lay to the side, that spoke of wisdom, and many long years. There was sadness in it, Mara thought; this was a creature who had seen a lot of suffering, but there was also compassion in it, and wisdom. She had no idea how long this creature had lived, but she had a feeling he was probably older than Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.  
  
Padme was wrong in terms of him being more lenient over time – he seemed to be slightly critical of Vader’s presence, and, though he didn’t say it aloud, it was obvious he was still getting used to the idea of Terminus being back, his old student who had lost his way so long ago. Happy to see him on the right path, but also, in a way, not quite knowing how to respond. Padme he greeted warmly, Luke he was friendly to, and Mara he seemed to regard with some doubt. Vader seemed to more than return his critical reaction, and Terminus himself seemed to return his unease. In short, to say that this dinner was pretty uneasy was an understatement.  
  
Mara took a tentative bite out of her leaf soup – she couldn’t say that she was very fond of it. She had a feeling that it was one of those things that was an acquired taste, at least for those living on Dagobah, and she had a feeling she would never get used to the taste of mush, the taste that seemed so bland it was almost sour. Still, for politeness’ sakes, she tried to eat it, all the while disliking the taste, as well as the tension that seemed to fill the room.  
  
After a while, she put the bowl down and spoke.  _Might as well make the first move._ “So,” Mara said, “About my training…Padme said that I had to come here to continue it.”  
  
Yoda raised his face from his own bowl of leaf soup. “Yes. Why wish to become Jedi, do you?”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “To help people,” she said. “Also, because of my father.”  
  
“Ah yes, your father. Powerful Jedi was he. Yes. Danger there was, however, in that power, and what he did with it.”  
  
“But he’s not on that path anymore,” Mara said. “He’s redeemed himself.”  
  
Terminus, her father, had no doubt done terrible things. Mara had seen enough of them on the Holonet, on the reports where, after a long while, Aunt Beru or Uncle Owen would shut them off, all while having this look of despair in their eyes, as if wondering if things would ever truly get better. But that said, Terminus had been more than willing to turn himself in for what he had done, to help her, in a way, destroy the Death Star (and perhaps get some people off there as well, hopefully), to find ways to help the Rebellion whenever he could, whether they wanted it or not. It wasn’t about whether they wanted his help per se; Terminus seemed to know that some of them didn’t trust him, didn’t truly know why he was here (perhaps it was a good thing they didn’t know that Kitster Stevens was actually Vader, Mara thought. They would no doubt hit the roof if they knew), but he did what he did anyway because he wished to redeem himself, and that was what mattered.  
  
Yoda merely looked at her gravely. “Redeemed himself he may have,” he said. “But to follow along that path, to make the same mistakes that he did – dangerous thing indeed.”  
  
“I’m not planning on making the same mistakes he did,” Mara said. “I want…” She took a deep breath. “I want to complete my training,” she said. “Everything that Padme taught me. I want to be able to learn more about the Force and how to use it. I want to be able to understand my heritage – my Jedi heritage as well as my heritage from Tatooine, and other parts of me. I want to be able to help the Rebellion. I want to be able to be a good Jedi.” There were plenty of other “I want”s on her lips, so many other things that she wanted to say, but in the end, those were the sorts of “I want”s that mattered.  
  
Padme then spoke. “I agree with her,” she said. “Mara needs training, Master Yoda. I know that she’s too old, at least by Jedi standards, but that hasn’t stopped others before. Look at Lord Revan, for example.”  
  
“Completely different, that was!”  
  
“Different from Mara’s case in many ways,” Padme said, “But nonetheless, it shows that anyone can be trained as a Jedi. It will be a long and hard road,” she said, looking briefly at Mara even as she spoke. “I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t a long and hard road, but nonetheless, I believe that Mara can do it. She is strong, determined, brave, and more than willing to learn. In fact, I think she’s one of the best students I had besides…” She swallowed, almost, Mara thought, as if it was difficult for her to say. “Besides Ahsoka.”  
Yoda seemed to nod gravely. He seemed to feel Ahsoka’s loss all too keenly as well. He didn’t show it overtly, Mara thought, but it was there nonetheless, in his large, green, almost cat-like eyes, in the emotions that seemed to be streaming from him.  
Vader was the next to speak. “I would be lying if I said I trust you on this, Master Yoda,” he said. “I don’t quite trust you with Mara’s training, and I fear that you may somehow butcher it. I fear what you will do to her, if you’ll brainwash her completely into the Jedi ways. I’ve seen the consequences of the old ways; we all have. Nonetheless, the fact that the old ways are long gone is another reason why something as small as age should not get in the way of training Mara. Surely you’ve seen the incredible power within this woman, the talent, the passion. I doubt even you could truly overlook it.”  
  
“Deny it, I do not,” Yoda said. “But the training of a Jedi – requires the deepest commitment, it does, the most serious mind. I have watched her – all her life has she looked to the future, to the horizon. Never her mind on where she was or what she was doing.”  
Mara snorted. “Bantha crap.” Maybe she had her share of daydreaming on Tatooine, looking for a way out of what seemed like a dead-end existence on that planet – Luke had once said that if there was a bright center to the universe, Tatooine was the planet that it was farthest from, and Mara couldn’t disagree with that – but she was still very practical, dutiful, and more than aware of her surroundings. She wasn’t an idiot. And yet Master Yoda seemed to be making up reasons to not train her, just because he was afraid of what would happen to her, if she would turn out like her father, never mind that her father redeemed himself –  
  
Mara took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to get angry. “Master Yoda,” she said, more calmly, “I have made my share of mistakes in the past. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t. But I’m more than willing to overcome this, all of this, in order to train as a Jedi. I won’t fail you, and I promise you, I am not afraid.”  
  
“You will be,” Yoda said.  
  
Terminus spoke up now. “Master Yoda,” he said, “I know full well that I have made mistakes. And even that word…even that word is an understatement, I feel.” His head was slightly bowed, his shoulders slightly slumped. “I have a feeling that every murder I committed, every betrayal I committed, will haunt me for the rest of my life. I know they still haunt me to this day. But my daughter is not me. She is very much her own.” He looked up at Master Yoda, and from the flash of light over his mask, Mara could swear that his eyes were pleading as he looked at his old Master, as if imploring him to see reason, to take mercy on those in need of training and, in Terminus’ case no doubt, re-training. “And she has done great things. She saved Yavin. She saved those on the  _Tantive IV_. She’s willing to show compassion and mercy to others. I have made many mistakes in my lifetime, too many of them, but Mara is not one of those mistakes. She and Ben both, I believe, are the best of my life.”  
  
Mara turned to look at her father. “Hey,” she said. “Good to hear.” She smiled, already feeling a sudden swell of emotion, of affection, in her chest. Her father, calling her and Ben the “best of his life” – there was something in her that felt unexpectedly warm even as he said it. That and the fact that he was so humble before Yoda, not blaming, not shouting, but humbly admitting his mistakes…she couldn’t help but admire him. Other people wouldn’t be able to do something like that – at least, not everyone.  _My father may have made mistakes in his lifetime, but he’s a damn good man._  
  
Yoda looked more thoughtful.  
  
It was Luke’s turn to speak. “I’m not exactly what you call…knowledgeable about Jedi ways,” he said. “I mean, in terms of most of the things going on, I’m completely lost.” A faint chuckle before Luke grew more serious. “But this is important to her, Master Yoda. It’s important to Padme as well, and Terminus. And we need her. I know you haven’t really seen what’s been going on out there, but the Rebellion…we’re in a bit of a jam. We managed to destroy the Death Star, but the Empire’s managed to burn down the base on Yavin, and a lot of other things. We lost a lot of good people that day.” Luke’s voice became more serious. “I can’t say that I knew them as much as I should have, but they were good people, and their deaths…if we don’t find a way to stop the Emperor, I don’t think there’ll be a Rebellion left to help.”  
  
Yoda seemed to go thoughtful again. He had no doubt sensed things such as Yavin – he hadn’t seen it for himself, but he had sensed it back on Dagobah. Mara could remember the Force, how it seemed to scream in agony with every person who died, how it felt almost as if she was being stabbed repeatedly as lives continued to wink out of existence.  
  
Alderaan had been a quick, massive wave of death, almost too much for Mara to bear, to the point she had fallen to her knees, crying out in pain, gripping her head as Beru and Owen had looked on, terrified, wondering what was happening, asking what was happening even as they seemed almost as if they were helpless to stop it. They hadn’t felt it, but they had watched their adopted daughter fall to her knees in agony, gripping her head, and they had no idea what was going on. And Yavin – Yavin felt as if Mara was being stabbed repeatedly as lives were snuffed out of existence, cut down by blasterfire and other things. Mara had already hated the Empire, but this only helped reaffirm her hatred of them – they had cut down a lot of good people there that day, without mercy, without pity, had burned the base to the ground without mercy or pity as well.  
  
And Yoda, even down on Dagobah – Mara doubted that he had missed such a thing. So many deaths, their screams traveling through the Force. So many good people, and innocent people, dying without meaning, without reason. More than that, it had been going on too long – Mara had all but grown up with reports such as that on the Holonet, things like Tarkin landing his Star Destroyer on a group of nonviolent protesters, or the Empire burning down cities. There was no room for staying out of it, for pretending it wasn’t happening. They had to act. It was why the Rebellion did what it did. Because someone had to stand up to the Empire, no matter how insane they no doubt seemed to those on the outside – those who did the right thing probably seemed insane at times anyway.  
“Will you finish,” Yoda said, “What you begin?”  
  
Mara nodded. “I’ll finish it, Master Yoda,” she said. “I promise.”  
  
It was going to be a long, hard road ahead of her. That Mara could not deny. But she would not falter, and more than that, no matter what happened, she would not fail. She was nowhere near to being a true Jedi yet, but by the Force itself, she would get there, no matter what it took. 


	10. Chapter Ten: To Be A Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara's Jedi training begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I admit that while writing Mara's conversation with Han was kind of hard (keeping them in character and whatnot), it was still a lot of fun to write, and quite sweet, in my opinion. Also, writing some of Mara's Jedi training was fun as well. Just getting into what it means to be a Jedi and such (which, I admit, I do occasionally have trouble with. I guess it doesn't help that the Jedi's philosophy kind of clashes with mine more than once). Anyway, hope you enjoy!

From that point on, on Dagobah, Mara’s training under Yoda began. She would be lying if she said that it wasn’t hard in the least, but it was interesting – different sorts of training exercises, levitating objects with the Force (which took a lot of concentration – sometimes Mara was good at it, but other times, it felt as if her mind itself was lifting weights. Sometimes the objects were easy to levitate, Mara thought, and other times, it seemed as if Mara was trying to levitate bricks with her mind), running and exercise (usually with Master Yoda on her back like some strange, green, alien knapsack, giving her advice), and practicing lightsaber combat, usually with Padme, and, with some reluctance on Yoda’s part, reluctance that said that he understood full well why Mara had to do something like this but he did not quite approve of the idea, practicing with Vader and Terminus as well, who were quite skilled in lightsaber combat. Master Yoda was willing to teach her a few things, but he seemed, more than that, one more focused on the Force and achieving what it meant to be a Jedi, balance from within – something Mara couldn’t say she was always good at. She wasn’t exactly completely impulsive, and she was willing to put her emotions aside when she could, but she was passionate about what she did, and was more than capable of the same righteous anger that Sabe had back when she was young. Padme had told her stories of her mother as well, stories of her time as Queen, stories that shed some more light on a figure that, up to that fateful series of events on Tatooine, had seemed almost elusive to Mara, and mysterious. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had told her a few things about her mother, but not enough. Most of what Mara knew about her parents came from Padme and the others, though Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were more able to be open about her parents now, more willing to talk about them, adoptive parents to their adopted child, as if she was an adult for the first time.

But Yoda himself seemed to be more focused on teaching Mara what it meant to be a Jedi – kind, compassionate, selfless, in harmony with oneself (easier said than done, Mara thought wryly), using the Force for knowledge and defense and never for attack. And though there were times Mara disagreed with Yoda – for example, about the idea of being calm and at peace and passive regarding the Force; after all, who would want to live like that? She sure as stang couldn’t. Calm, at peace and passive was not exactly her style, and she doubted it ever would be – she couldn’t help but be fascinated by this new, strange, interesting world, and all it had to offer.

It was after a rather vigorous training session with Padme regarding lightsaber combat that Mara took a break for the moment. She was sweating – Padme had all but gotten her exhausted in terms of training her in the lightsaber form of Ataru (Padme and the others had been more than determined to make sure she had plenty of skills in terms of being a Jedi. Despite their differing approaches to Jedi training, that was one thing they could definitely agree on) and Mara was already sore from it. Padme was not an Ataru practicioner – she was more of a Soresu person, Mara had learned, something Terminus had taught her no doubt, long ago. Vader, meanwhile, was very much a man suited for Djem So, aggressive and forceful and focused on combat. Mara couldn’t say she’d found a lightsaber style that suited her yet. Perhaps the try-not-to-get-hit-by-anything lightsaber style? She couldn’t quite say – but nonetheless, she had managed to teach Mara quite a bit.

_“You’ll find your lightsaber style in time,” Padme told her long after they had finished their session._ “ _You’ll simply know what’s right for you. Master Windu, one of the greatest lightsaber combatants of our time, made up his own style, Vaapad, in order to channel his own darkness into an instrument of the light. And Master Yoda uses Ataru in order to make up for his stature. Vader…” A slight smile came across her lips. “It suits his personality as well. Forceful, aggressive, uncompromising. And Terminus and I have found that simplicity is often our strength in terms of combat.”_

_“So basically,” Mara said, “I have to find out who I am and what suits me?”_

_“Yes,” Padme said. “What suits your strengths and your weaknesses, what suits you, what suits the situation.”_

_Mara shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”_

_“You simply will,” Padme said. “In time.”_

Mara sighed and sat beside Artoo. It wasn’t as if she was particularly bummed over not knowing her style as much as the fact that compared to just about everyone else, she was a kid wielding a lightsaber playing pretend, like she and Luke occasionally did when they were kids, and played Space Pirates. Still, she would improve in time. There was definitely a lot to learn, but nonetheless, she would learn it in time.

Right now, she was sore and needed to rest, maybe check up on Han and the others and see how they were doing. Hopefully, they’d gotten to the rendez-vous point, though from flashes of them she had seen, it seemed as if they were in terrible danger, and the flight to the rendez-vous point hadn’t exactly gone as planned.

Artoo toodled softly, scooting up near her. Mara sighed. She couldn’t help but miss Han. It wasn’t as if he had completely left, but in a way, though she had Luke and Padme and Terminus and Vader, and of course Yoda, she couldn’t help but feel the absence of Han and the others quite keenly. She took out her holoprojector and contacted the _Falcon_.

Han’s face appeared then; he seemed tired and rather tense, but his face seemed to brighten a bit when he saw Mara. “Hey, kid! Good to hear from you. How’s Dagobah?”

“Oh, you know,” Mara said. “Jedi training’s going pretty well. It’s hard, but it’s great.”

“Don’t really envy you, kid,” Han said lightly. “What about Luke? How’s he doing? And Padme?”

“They’re doing great.” Luke didn’t really seem to have much to do on Dagobah, poor guy, but he and Mara had managed to find time to talk long after her Jedi training was finished. Luke had laughed with her about the more ridiculous aspects of her training, had joked with her (if affectionately; despite his quirks, to say the least, Yoda was almost impossible not to like) about Yoda and the matter of Jedi training, and had generally been as he had always been – friendly, supportive, and curious, willing to try and get to know Terminus (despite being a bit intimidated by him, Luke was a friendly kid), and Vader and Padme.

“And Kitster, and Terminus?”

“They’re doing fine,” Mara said. “I mean…I think Master Yoda was surprised to see Father again, but he’s come around to him.”

“Surprised, huh?” Han shrugged. “Well, I guess if the former enforcer of the Emperor showed up on my doorstep, I’d be pretty surprised.”

“Yeah, I still remember that,” Mara said, smiling a bit. Then she grew more serious. “Father used to be a close friend of Yoda’s. And, according to Yoda, he trained Father when he was just a child.”

“Stang,” Han said. “That must have been a shocker for him.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Mara. “So what about you, Han? How are you doing?”

Han snorted. “To be honest, we’re kind of in a jam. Something’s gone wrong with the hyperdrive, and I don’t know what. Goldenrod’s been working on it – I mean, he’s the best chance we’ve got in terms of getting it fixed so we can get moving again.” He sighed. “To be honest, kid,” he said, a hint of lightness – a bit of lightness, at least – in his voice, “You should probably get Kitster over here. I mean, we could use his help.”

Mara chuckled slightly, before growing more serious. “Hyperdrive troubles, huh?” she said. “That really bites.”

Han laughed. “You don’t even know the half of it, kid. We actually had to go into an asteroid field in order to get away from Ventress and her goons. We’ve lost them for the moment, but…” He sighed. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to hide forever. We might as well hide out here just to keep them from seeing us; I mean, Ventress and the others couldn’t be crazy enough to go into an asteroid field. They’re determined, but they’re not that crazy.”

“I certainly hope so.” Mara could only imagine what it must be like. “We kind of had a rough time getting to Dagobah too.”

“I can see that.”

“Artoo here,” Mara said, gently patting the astromech’s dome, “Nearly got eaten by a swamp monster. Didn’t really see it, but it was pretty scary-looking. Sort of reminded me of the dianoga – you know, back in the trash compactor on the Death Star?”

A faint laugh. “How could I forget that?”

They both chuckled. Then Mara faltered. “Are Mom and Dad okay?”

“Owen and Beru? Yeah,” Han said. “They got on the transports okay.” He sighed. “Miracle in and of itself, actually, considering.” He shook his head. “Some weren’t too lucky. I mean, we definitely lost quite a few good people that day.”

Mara’s throat clenched, as did her chest. She didn’t want to think about it, the stabbing feeling she had got as those deaths practically echoed through the Force. People, screaming, shot down or buried alive by the snow that crushed them as one of the AT-ATs got a lucky shot in and caved parts of the base down around their ears. She didn’t want to think of poor Dack Ralter, only eighteen years old, killed by General Veers. She could only hope that whatever death Veers suffered was just as brutal.

But those were not thoughts of a Jedi, and they were dangerous thoughts to have as well. Mara stuffed it down, suddenly feeling quite ashamed of herself. She had been trying to rein her emotions in – and Terminus had helped; after all, he, too, had had too much experience in what it was like to fall to the Dark Side, to simply lose control. Padme too, and Vader. They had all helped the best they could – but there were times when she thought about the Empire’s cruelty and she could not help but hate them. The individual soldiers, not so much; most of them were just ordinary men who went off to war for whatever reason, whether it be loyalty or anything else, but the institution itself, run by the Emperor, whose shadowy face still appeared in Mara’s dreams, beckoning for her to give into her anger, to fall to the Dark Side and serve him as her father once did, of having her lead raids that would crush the Rebellion, her friends, of ordering cities burnt to the ground and people, soldier and civilian alike, brutally murdered. And then there were things like the Council of Moffs, Ventress, the Emperor’s Hands that he sent out on assignments on occasion, like Shira Brie. All those people who seemed almost shadowy at best, operating behind the scenes, ordering Imperial soldiers to their deaths, desolating cities and planets, arresting people…the list of cruelties went on and on.

And even what they were doing now was the tip of a very large iceberg. And the more she saw every day, the more she heard, the more that Mara knew that the Empire had to be stopped. No Empire, after all, should have been built on the backs of pain and fear and bloodshed.

“Mara?” Han’s voice, concerned, strangely soft for him.

“Yeah,” Mara said. “I’m okay.” She sighed. “Stang, that was a terrible day.”

“It was.” Han was somber for a long time, a sort of somberness that she  didn’t often associate with him. “It really was.”

Around them, the faint caws of Dagobah’s flying predators – bogwings, Yoda apparently called them – only made the surrounding silence all the more eerie. Padme and the others seemed to be winding down for the night. Mara decided to change the subject – perhaps to something a bit lighter. She didn’t want to think about things like Dack Ralter being shot down, or the Empire, or the dreams that seemed to haunt her at night like ghosts visiting her in her sleep. “So,” she said, “How’s Leia? And Threepio? And the others?”

“Goldenrod’s not doing bad with the repairs,” Han said. “He’s currently working on the hyperdrive. Trying to figure out what’s wrong with it. I figured since Kitster’s busy training on Dagobah, Goldenrod’s our best chance.”

“Threepio’s not bad,” Mara said.

Han snorted. “He’s uptight as all hell, he worries a lot, and he doesn’t really get when it’s time to bug off.”

“Well,” Mara said, “He saved our lives in the Death Star trash compactor. Remember?”

“Technically, your astromech did it.”

“Both of them did,” Mara said. She patted Artoo’s dome again, gently. “So, Leia?”

“She’s doing okay. Hanging in there as best she can, all things considered.” Han smiled. “She’s a tough girl. Might get on my nerves sometimes – ’’

“I think the feeling is mutual, Han,” Mara said, but her voice was light.

Han chuckled. “She likes me. I know she does. She just doesn’t want to admit it yet.”

Mara rolled her eyes playfully. “You are so full of it.”

“No, I’m telling you, kid. She likes me. But yeah,” Han said, his voice becoming more serious, “She’s pretty tough. She’s been helping around the place where she can. Ben…well, Ben brought a few friends onboard, so I think there might be some trouble. But I think we’ll manage.”

“Good to hear,” Mara said.

“So,” Han said, “What have you learned? Master Yoda’s not giving you a hard time, is he?”

Mara laughed. “He’s not that bad,” she said. “He’s actually a pretty good teacher. Strict, but good. He’s been teaching me a lot about the Force. And Dagobah…”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Mara said, “It’s not too bad as a planet. I mean, you’ve got the swamp monsters and other creatures that might get you if you’re not careful, but it’s not too bad. Sure wouldn’t go there for a vacation, though.”

“Can’t imagine anyone would,” Han said. “Was that why this Yoda guy hid out there? Thought that the Empire wouldn’t be crazy enough to go there?”

“I can only guess,” said Mara. “Padme’s been teaching me a lot about lightsaber combat. I mean, there’s a lot of different styles. She’s taught me a few – Ataru, Shii Cho, Soresu, stuff like that.”

“Sounds like a lot of complicated stuff for something that’s just slicing off a few heads,” Han said lightly.

“Well, it’s not just that,” Mara said. “It’s more than that. Lightsaber combat…it actually has a long history. It’s pretty interesting to learn about, actually. The Force too.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Levitating stuff, mostly.”

“Seriously?” Han said. “What does Master Yoda think you’re going to do – levitate Ventress and the others to death?”

Mara sighed and shook her head. “It’s not like that, Han,” she said. “It’s more of a…beginner’s thing. I managed to get my lightsaber out of the snow, but I still have a long way to go before I’m even close to Yoda, Padme, Kitster, Father…”

“Well, keep it up, kid,” Han said. “Can’t say I exactly get all of this, but…good luck all the same.” He smiled even as he said it.

“Thanks.” Mara rubbed her forehead; she still, in all honesty, felt quite tired. “I’m going to need it.”

It was then that Threepio came into frame. “Captain Solo?”

“What is it now, Goldenrod?” Han said, turning in irritation towards the gold protocol droid.

“I believe that I’ve found out the problem with the hyperdrive. I can’t say I understand it completely; your computer has a peculiar dialect. Nonetheless, I think you should come and see it.”

  
Han sighed and got up. “Well,” he said, “I should probably get going. Talk to you soon, kid.”

Mara smiled despite herself. “You too.”

The transmission ended, and Mara lay back against the tree trunk on Dagobah. In truth, she did miss Han and the others, and seeing Han’s transmission only made her miss him all the more. She did miss Han’s humor – even if he was quite the sarcastic being. Still, he seemed to have adjusted more to the fact she was training to be a Jedi than when they had first met and he had referred to it derisively as a “hokey religion” – and she missed her mother’s support, and Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s kindness and wisdom and general homey quality. She missed Threepio and his input on things, she missed Ada and her loyalty and strength, she missed Leia’s strength and wisdom…she missed a lot of things about them. At least her adoptive parents had gotten on the transports okay; she couldn’t bear to imagine what could have happened to them. If they had been –

The Rebellion was close to that line, that whole line of “ifs” – _if this had happened, if that had happened_ , _if we hadn’t been as lucky_ , and so on and so forth – but it was something Mara didn’t want to think about. If they hadn’t gotten to the transports on time…

Mara swallowed. It was probably a good thing to go to sleep. She still had a lot to do tomorrow, a lot more training to do, and she couldn’t afford to waste any hour of sleep before it was time to train tomorrow. She slumped against the tree, the hard bark driving into her back, and Artoo scooted next to her as if sensing his mistress’ distress.

Mara smiled weakly at Artoo. “I’m okay, Artoo,” she said. “I just miss them is all.”

Artoo _dwooed_ softly. Mara gently patted his dome. “You miss them too?”

Another _dwoo_.

Mara smirked. “Even Threepio?”

A series of beeps. OF COURSE I DO.

Mara couldn’t help but smile. For all the two droids bickered a lot – a lot like siblings at times, Mara thought – it was clear that they did care deeply about one another. Threepio had been panicked when it seemed that Artoo had been fried in the Battle of Yavin, even offering to hand over his spare parts in order to make sure that the other astromech was all right. And when Artoo had been safely repaired, sparkling and clean and completely new, Threepio had been almost overjoyed.

And Artoo – it was clear that he cared about Threepio as well. For all he enjoyed ribbing Threepio, it was clear he cared as well. He did miss Threepio – picky, fussy, overly worried Threepio – a great deal.

Mara stroked his dome. “We’ll see them soon, Artoo,” she said. “You’ll see.”

She fell asleep against the tree, Artoo by her side, shielded momentarily from the rain that always seemed to pour down on Dagobah, almost completely ceaseless, constant and pounding and heavy, a heavy blanket resting over her in order to keep her warm – Artoo, meanwhile, took shelter under the leaves of the tree.

_When Mara finally drifted into sleep, it was slightly easier in order to fall asleep than some previous nights, when her sleep had been restless, uneasy, tossing and turning almost the whole way through. But nonetheless, the nightmares did not cease for her. It was a slightly modified nightmare – instead of seeing the Emperor’s cackling, grinning face, its krayt dragon like eyes lit with a sort of malicious glee, she saw Ventress, almost completely bald, tattoos near her right ear and around her eyes, making her seem almost like some sort of jungle beast. A whole tribe of hyenax followed, trailing at her heels almost like a series of pets following their owner. Ventress’ face was pale, beautiful in an intimidating way, and her lips were quirked in a sort of malicious smile that was not as obvious as the Emperor’s malicious glee, but nonetheless, was frightening in its way. In the dream, Ventress was leading some sort of army in a raid on a base that Mara couldn’t say where it was, but it was on fire, so much like Yavin, the flames turning the sky even more blood-red than it already was. There were people running about, running and screaming, trying to get out of the base, Ben was shouting orders to get them onto the transport. And the dream shifted, and Mara saw Han on some sort of torture rack that she didn’t recognize, and he was gritting his teeth against the pain of it, but nonetheless, Mara could see that he couldn’t hold out much longer. That he would, in time, barely be able to take anymore._

Mara snapped awake from her dream, gasping for breath, little to no idea what the dream meant, but nonetheless, frightened at the idea. Was it a dream? No, it seemed like more than that. It seemed like a vision, she thought. A vision of harm falling to Han, and the others. Would Ventress hurt Han and the others? Capture them and torture them, possibly execute them?

She looked around Dagobah, taking a deep breath, managing to compose herself. _You’re okay. You’re on Dagobah, you’re safe. And Han and the others are safe too. They’re just inside the asteroid, they’re trying to get repairs done on the_ Falcon. _Han told you that much. They’re safe._

And yet, falling asleep, there was something in Mara that could not shake the unpleasant, sickening feeling, as if the vision itself was about to come to pass, and Mara didn’t quite know it yet. 


	11. Chapter Eleven: Search for the Falcon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ventress continues to search for Han and co., who only want to get the Falcon fixed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Another favorite of mine. I admit that the whole Leia-having-a-previous-love thing was something I didn't really expect, but I think it worked decently. And I think I got into Leia's head pretty well.

Back on the  _Executor,_ to say that the search for the  _Millennium Falcon_ was not going terribly smoothly was an understatement as large as saying that Hoth was not a planet that one would want to vacation on. They had decided to head into the asteroid field, despite Admiral Piett’s misgivings about their ships being lost, mostly thanks to the threat of Ventress’ anger. She could not afford to lose the  _Falcon_. The  _Falcon_ itself had escaped her too many times. She could not lose it again.  
  
And once she had the  _Falcon_ , it would be a powerful instrument against Mara and the others. The Kenobi girl would come to her in time, and she would have plenty of time to…persuade Mara to her idea of thinking.  
  
It would take time; after all, the girl was just like her father. She was stubborn, with a rigid sense of right and wrong, and determined, and swaying her would not be as easy as Ventress would think. Even her father, for all his stubbornness, had been easier to sway thanks to being in a vulnerable place at the time, as well as having a misguided sense of right and wrong, amongst other reasons. Mara, meanwhile…  
  
The Emperor had attempted to deal with his enemies with all the grace and all the subtlety of a rancor on a rampage. Ventress would have to undo all of that for Mara, to have her unlearn what she had learned.  
  
She almost smirked to herself. She sounded like a Jedi, which was the last thing she wanted. But it was the truth. Mara had to discount everything that she had ever been told. In a profession such as the Jedi’s, where you had to blindly swallow everything you were told no matter how ludicrous it was, to listen, to believe, to absorb those beliefs entirely (it had been a problem with Mara’s father, and with Padme), having to unlearn it would be met with protests. But Mara had to see it her way. How corrupt and arrogant the Order truly were, how the Emperor, Darth Sidious, cared nothing for the Empire he had promised to sustain. How Ventress’ way was the only possible way available, that there was no middle ground.  
  
 _You are with me or against me._ Back when he was Obi-Wan, Terminus had mocked it heavily, saying “Only Sith deal in absolutes” (never mind that the Jedi were just as guilty of that. It was akin to the Hutt calling the mynock slimy), but it was the truth. If Mara could not be turned, then there would be no other choice but to destroy her. Ventress knew full well that Terminus’ heart would break at the idea of his daughter – his now fully-grown daughter – being destroyed, but nonetheless, it was the truth of things. And she would have to fight him.  
  
She only hoped that it would not come to that. Fighting either him, or Vader. But she knew it was what had to be done.  
  
On the bridge of her ship, Ventress watched a hologram of Captain Lorth Needa – she could vaguely remember him from times during the Clone Wars, when they used to be on opposite sides. She had not seen much of him, but he seemed remarkably courageous and calm, she would give him credit for that. There were very few brave men of his caliber on the side of the Republic. In addition, he was quite competent. Perhaps it was one of the few instances where the Emperor knew what he was doing when he elected Captain Lorth Needa to the job.  
  
“And that, my lady,” Lorth Needa said, his hologram trembling – Ventress could only assume that he was breaking up as they went deeper into the asteroid fields. Perhaps it would have been smarter to send in their smaller ships, but she couldn’t say she had much time for regrets over what could have been. They needed to find the  _Falcon_. – becoming almost staticky, “Is the last time that we saw them on our scopes. Considering the considerable amount of damage we sustained, they must have been destroyed.”  
  
“I would have sensed if they had been destroyed,” Ventress said. “They are alive, Captain. I want every inch of this asteroid field scoured until they are found.”  
  
“With due respect, my lady,” said Captain Needa, “We’ve lost enough of our ships today.”  
  
Normally, Ventress would have choked someone like Needa for saying such a thing, but in truth, he had a point. Ventress, however, was nothing if not determined. “We’ll send in our smaller ships,” she said. “Scout ships.”  
  
“They too were destroyed by the asteroid field.”  
  
Irritation spiked in Ventress, but she quashed it for the moment. “We don’t have many options, Captain,” she said. “I want that ship, not excuses.”  
  
“Very well then.” Captain Needa bowed, and his hologram faded. He seemed still doubtful, Ventress thought, but nonetheless, he was more than willing to do what needed to be done.  
  
Ventress rubbed her temples, feeling a sudden, throbbing pain behind them. She would give Han Solo and the others this much; they were cunning, and they knew how to outrun Ventress. Ventress supposed that one did not become a smuggler without learning a few tricks. But even smugglers couldn’t outrun her forever. The smuggler would have to come out of the asteroid field eventually. And considering how…compromised his ship seemed to be, from the looks of it, even the seemingly fastest ship in the galaxy couldn’t outrun Ventress forever.  
  
It was then that Admiral Piett interrupted her. She turned to him. “What is it, Admiral?” The Admiral himself seemed to be pale as a ghost, which was unusual for him. Usually, Piett was good in terms of keeping calm and not panicking in situations such as these; even when he had spoken of the difficulties of the asteroid field, he had kept calm. But here…he was trembling, though it was clear he was trying to hide it.  
  
“The Emperor requests you make contact with him.”  
  
 _Ah._ So that was why Piett seemed so frightened. Ventress could understand that. It was no surprise, perhaps, that the Emperor was the only thing that could make Piett look as if he were on the verge of panic. The Emperor was enough to strike fear, to strike terror into the hearts of many. Ventress knew this full well – she could swear that her body became tense, almost burning, as if remembering the Force Lightning that he had unleashed on her, and both her now-mechanical hands throbbed, remembering how the Emperor had cut them off.  
  
The Emperor was not a merciful man. He was petty, spiteful and cruel, and the only reason he had gotten into power was others’ pure foolishness, nothing more, nothing less. Including Ventress’ own stupidity in trusting him.  
  
Still, she would continue to play the part of subservient apprentice, for now. It was when she was powerful enough, when she had the Kenobi girl on her side as well as others, that she would strike against the Emperor. “Move the ship out of the asteroid field,” she said, “So we can get a clear transmission.”  
  
As the ship moved away from the rest of the fleet, which remained in the asteroid field, Ventress headed towards her chambers, where the Emperor was certain to contact her. The chamber on her ship…it had been a place where she had gone, occasionally, if only to remove herself briefly from the Emperor’s presence. She could not say that she had the fondest memories of it, but nonetheless, there was something about it that was home. She entered, feeling the chill of the room, the openness of the room, the feeling of loneliness…but Ventress did not mind. Some would wonder how anyone could stand such a thing. But Ventress herself found it comforting, in a strange way.  
  
She knelt, and a light came on, displaying a hologram of the Emperor, with his lizard-like visage, his malevolent sickly yellow eyes looking over Ventress. Ventress could not help but wonder what was so important in the Emperor’s eyes that he would contact her such, but she supposed she would find out sooner or later. For now, she would play her part as the subservient apprentice.  
  
“What is thy bidding,” she said, “My master?”  
  
There was a long silence. Then the Emperor spoke, in his almost slithering voice. “How goes the search for the _Millennium Falcon_?”  
  
“It goes well,” said Ventress. “We have run into difficulties at the moment, Master, but otherwise, it goes well.”  
  
“Does it, apprentice? Or is this a set-up for another one of your failures?”  
  
Anger spiked in Ventress, and she wanted to retort that she was not a failure, that she was more than even Sidious could ever be, but that was pride talking, wounded pride, and wounded pride would not do in this moment when she had a part to play. It would be the most useful for later, anyway, when she killed her Master.  
  
Of course, he could not know that. Not yet, anyway.  
  
“The search is still difficult,” she said, “But nonetheless, we are getting closer to finding them. The ship has hidden in an asteroid field, but even they can’t hide forever. In addition, the ship appears to be heavily compromised. So their chances of escape are minimal at best.”  
  
The Emperor looked at her through those sickly yellow eyes, unblinking, seeming to be unconvinced, but nonetheless, calm. Then he said, “Indeed they are.” Beat. “We must be careful, apprentice. The Kenobi girl must not be allowed to become a Jedi. If she does, she will be more of a threat to us than she was when she destroyed the Death Star. The Jedi Order will return, and that must not be allowed to happen.”  
  
That Ventress could not disagree with. Some would be fighting to bring the Jedi Order back at every turn; it had been the way of things back in the days of the First Jedi Purge, when the Dark Lords Sion, Nihilus and Traya had helped all but exterminate the Jedi, save for a select few, and Force Sensitives that went on to help rebuild the Jedi Order. But the Jedi Order could not be allowed to be brought back. Ventress had seen enough of the Order over the course of the Clone Wars in order to see the Jedi Order as they truly were, filled with nothing but weakness. They were corrupt, arrogant, smug – they claimed to be better than the rest never mind that they were nothing of the sort. They cared nothing for those they claimed to want to protect, and them rejecting the Dark Side was nothing more than a cover for their own weakness. They craved power as much as anyone; the difference was that they did not seize power when they felt the need.  
  
She could not say that she cared anything for the Emperor either. She wanted nothing to do with either the Emperor or the Jedi. The Sith, yes…but perhaps only in bringing back the Sith as they were meant to, back to their original days of glory. That Ventress could do, for however disillusioned, to put it mildly, she had become with the Emperor over those three years, she was still loyal to the Sith, loyal to their cause, as she had been since she was no more than a little girl, first being trained in the ways of the Dark Side.  
“Perhaps,” said Ventress, “If the Kenobi girl could be turned, she would be a powerful ally.”  
  
The Emperor seemed to smile. It was an unpleasant thing, making his already reptilian face seem all the more inhuman, all the more monstrous. It was small, no more than a smirk, some could argue, but nonetheless, it was an unpleasant thing to watch. “Yes,” he said, practically purring like a contented rancor, “She would make a great asset. As would Padme.”  
  
“Padme?” Ventress said. “With due respect, my Lord, why would Padme be converted? She is devoted to her ideals to a fault. She is too stubborn, too inflexible, to accept other ideas.”  
  
“Even she will have to understand eventually. That and she still has the legacy of the Sith in her blood. She still bears their power and their potential.”  
  
“What is it that you mean, my Master?” Ventress was genuinely curious now; the Emperor did not seem to solely be talking about the potential for the Dark Side that resided in all Jedi, all Force Sensitives, the potential that could sway them to the Dark Side. He seemed to be talking about something far more than that, as if…  
  
But that was very rare. Only Plagueis had truly mastered such a thing.  
  
 _He was Plagueis’ student. He learned the secret, and then, after Plagueis had served his purpose, the Emperor murdered him in his sleep._ Yes, that seemed plausible. But Padme herself – Ventress doubted she could see two individuals that were more on polar opposites of the spectrum. She could not say that she liked Padme too much – she was stubborn, infuriatingly self-righteous, and thought in enough absolutes, Ventress thought, that she and Obi-Wan, prior to his turn, could be used as examples to show that it was not just Sith that thought in absolutes – but the former General Naberrie was nothing like the Emperor.  
  
“I helped create her,” said the Emperor, and Ventress could only look up at him, trying to keep her face impassive all while having a sudden feeling of disbelief – something she rarely felt – going through her.  _The Emperor’s child. Not biologically, but no doubt through some manipulation. He tried to create her, but she took a different path than he did._  
  
More than that, Ventress could swear that she saw a flicker in the Emperor’s eyes – something that was brief, yes, but spoke of softness. He did seem to care about Padme, to some extent – Ventress had seen that much back in the Clone Wars, when he had been Darth Sidious, operating his double-life as beloved Chancellor to the Republic and the grand manipulator of the war at hand. It was absurd. He spoke of the Sith not caring for others, and yet he himself had an attachment, all to his own creation.  
  
He truly was a fool. And far from worthy of leading the Sith. Caring nothing for his Empire, petty, pointlessly cruel, and worst of all,  _attached_. He truly was a foolish old man who knew nothing of the Dark Side. Ventress too had attachments here and there, but she knew better than to let them get in the way of her duties as a Sith. The Emperor claimed to be Sith, and yet in the end, he was no Sith. Dooku had once mocked her for not being Sith –  _“the Sith have no fear. And I sense much fear in you._ ” – but she knew that even she, in the end, was more Sith than the Emperor could ever hope to be.  
  
She kept her face impassive. “You believe that she can join us, Master?”  
  
“She will have no choice,” said the Emperor, and his voice seemed to become only more snakelike, the soft  _c_ s seeming to hiss, the  _s_  sounds seeming to hiss like the crackling of flames. “She will join us, or she will perish.”  
  
 _She will most likely perish first_ , Ventress thought. Padme was stubborn, stubborn enough, no doubt, to die for her beliefs if need be. But she looked up at the Emperor and said, “Perhaps that will not be necessary, my Lord. Perhaps there is a way that she, the Kenobi girl, and others can be turned to our cause.”  
  
Silence. “How would you do that, apprentice?” The soft  _c_ s and  _s_ es seemed to become less pronounced, and gentler, and the Emperor’s voice seemed to return to some semblance of normalcy, but Ventress could sense the suppressed rage, the obsession, that seemed to be growing in the Emperor’s heart.  
  
“I plan to lure them out,” said Ventress. “To capture the  _Falcon_ , and thus lure them into our trap. They are too pliable in that regard, with their loyalty, their gentleness, their naïve love for others. They will fall into our trap all too well. And then I will bring them to you.” The last one was a lie, of course. Ventress had no intention of taking them to the Emperor. She would take them to her own ship, and thus, begin their conversion – through torture, and more importantly, through persuasion that what Ventress was doing was the right thing, the good thing, and that no one could truly disagree with that.  
  
The Emperor seemed to be thoughtful. Then, “So I suppose you are stronger than I believed, apprentice. Can it be done?”  
  
“They will join us or die, Master.”  
  
The Emperor smiled, and his hologram faded, leaving Ventress alone in her chamber. And she herself could not help but smirk.  _The fool._ For however clever the Emperor prided himself on being, he did not realize that Ventress was plotting against him. That she had no intention of taking Mara and the others to her. She would find the  _Falcon_ , and then, once they had fallen all too smoothly into her trap, she would persuade them to come to her side. Give reasons as to why they should, good reasons, solid reasons, speaking about the corruption of the Empire, her disillusionment with the Empire (which was far from a lie), and over time, slowly convert them to her side of things. And from there, they would destroy the Emperor and the Rebellion as well, take over the Empire, ruling the galaxy and bringing the peace that the Emperor had promised before he had broken that promise.  
  
Ventress smirked to herself. Oh yes, that would be perfect. All her enemies, enemies that had been thorns in her side for far too long, destroyed in a single glorious victory, a single glorious day.  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, on the  _Millennium Falcon_ , to say that the crew was busy was an understatement to say the least. Now that the stormtrooper prisoners were unfortunately awake, they’d tried to shoot at Sabe, who’d had to use a series of sedatives in order to get them not to kill her. Leia was helping out with some of the repairs, and Ben was in medbay, helping Sabe watch over the stormtrooper prisoners. And Goldenrod was currently helping Han out with the repairs.  
  
Han couldn’t say he was fond of the idea; to say that Goldenrod got on his nerves was an understatement as big as saying that Jabba the Hutt wasn’t particularly known for being kind or merciful. And in truth, he wished he could talk with Mara a while longer; he never thought he’d say this, but he did miss the girl like mad. He hadn’t expected it when Padme, going under the alias of Lady Nemo, had talked him into giving them safe passage to Alderaan (which had gone south pretty damn fast), but he had grown pretty fond of her. Her wit, her naivetie and a strange sort of innocence (though Mara wasn’t a fool either, Han knew that), her enthusiasm…in truth, he had grown pretty attached to her, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Han Solo, after all, had a reputation to uphold. He wasn’t a man who got attached to people easily – well, except Chewie. And Chewie’s family, back on Kashyyyk; in fact, Chewie’s family was the closest thing to family that Han really had. He hadn’t known his real parents too well, and Chewie’s family had stood in as a sort of surrogate family. Chewie had become almost like a surrogate brother, someone to occasionally bicker with but, in the end, you cared about one another.  
  
Chewie was the only one he would openly admit being attached to. But the others…even though he had grown to like them, even get attached to them, admitting it out loud was one of those things that Han wouldn’t do. He wasn’t the type. Kitster was good at that; he had a sort of wear-his-emotions-like-a-Holonet-banner thing going on, but Han? Not exactly. A whole army of Imperial torturers couldn’t get it out of him, even if they played one of those bizarre holovids that Itchy was somehow fond of that Han could never truly understand.  
  
Besides, it would probably spoil his reputation as the smuggler who played by his own rules, who was cool and collected and never truly afraid of anything. So Han kept it quiet. Still, he couldn’t help but wish he could have stopped to listen to Mara a little while longer, and that Goldenrod didn’t have to butt in and bug him about the hyperdrive.  
  
Still, it wasn’t like Han really had much of a choice. Considering that Kitster, pretty much one of their best experts on what was going wrong with a ship, was currently chilling on Dagobah, Goldenrod was, unfortunately, their best bet. Han never thought he’d see the day where Goldenrod would actually be necessary.  
  
Apparently a lot of things changed when your hyperdrive was broken down, you were stranded in an asteroid, and you had stormtrooper prisoners on your ship. The last one thanks to Ben. Han didn’t mind Ben too much; Ben was a good kid, really, but sometimes he could be too soft. Sometimes you really had no choice but to kill someone. Then again, Ben hadn’t lived on the Outer Rim for years with no one but a Wookiee companion to keep him company, having to dodge danger, including those instances where, say, a crazy Rodian decided to try and shoot you dead. You had to be on guard, you had to be prepared. Sometimes scruples couldn’t really enter into the equation when you were in danger, and when you were running for your life from the Empire, they mattered even less. If someone needed to be killed, you killed them. That was the way.  
  
Goldenrod took him into the engine room, and Han turned to look at him. “Okay,” he said, “What have you found out about the hyperdrive?”  
  
“I’m not quite certain, sir,” Goldenrod said. “Artoo could possibly translate it better than I. I don’t know where your ship learned to communicate, but it has a most peculiar dialect.”  
  
 _Oh, great._  
  
“However,” Goldenrod said, “From what I can gather, I believe, sir, that it says that the power coupling on the negative axis has been polarized. I’m afraid you’ll have to replace it.”  
  
 _Ah._  So that was the problem. Maybe it had been when they were trying to repair the  _Falcon_  and that explosion had gone off when Chewie had been replacing a part. Or maybe it had been some sort of consequence of one of the stormtroopers firing on the ship. Han didn’t know. Whatever it was, Chewie would have to look at it.  
  
Not that he could let Goldenrod know that.  
  
“Well of course I’m going to have to replace it,” Han snapped.  
  
He headed down the hallway, where Chewie was currently working on the wires near the ceiling on the  _Falcon_. From the way he was working, almost clinging to the ceiling, Han could only imagine him back on Kashyyyk in his Wookiee days, skillfully navigating from tree to tree, hanging from branches. Han handed him a coil. Chewie, still working at the ceiling, reached down with the sort of grace and flexibility that seemed to come naturally to Wookiees, and took the coil from Han. “ _Thank you_.”  
  
“No problem, pal. Also…” Han glanced around quickly, hoping that Goldenrod wouldn’t hear; the protocol droid would probably never let him hear the end of it. Or anyone else, for that matter. “I think we should replace that negative power coupling.”  
  
An inquisitive grunt.  
  
“Well,” Han said, “According to Goldenrod, the power coupling’s been polarized and that’s why we can’t take off.”  
  
A faint chuckle.  
  
“Yeah, I get it,” Han said. Honestly, in terms of things that could possibly ruin his reputation, the fact that he didn’t want to throw Goldenrod out the nearest airlock (yet) was probably one of the biggest. “But considering that Kitster’s not here, it’s the best chance we’ve got.”  
  
A grunt.  
  
“I’m just going to look around the ship and see if anything else needs fixing. Good luck, Chewie.”  
  
The Wookiee grunted and went back to working on the busted wires near the ceiling.  
  
***  
Meanwhile, in the room across from where Chewie worked, Leia was already having some trouble in terms of repairs. In general, she thought, this series of days was not a particularly good one. It had already started off bad enough when the base on Hoth had been all but destroyed – it had not been like Yavin when it seemed that the sky was stained with fire, or Alderaan, when chunks of the world that had been her home for so many years had floated through space, but she was still frightened at the sight, all while she had kept her cool, done her job – a leader of the Rebellion, after all, was not supposed to show vulnerability in front of those she had sworn to protect. General Rieekan seemed to have the same problem. He hid his guilt and grief over Alderaan well, but Leia could still see it, in the brief flickers of his eyes, the occasional set of his shoulders, in the heaviness that sometimes filled his voice. Alderaan was a burden that they all had to bear, as was the war itself.  
  
In truth, she still missed her parents. It had been three years, but she missed them still – missed the sound of her father’s voice, warm and firm and encouraging, her mother’s gentleness and compassion, their guidance, the way they had taught both her and Ben right from wrong, and many other things. She hadn’t shown it in front of anyone but Ben and Ada, but she still had nightmares about the destruction of her homeworld, bits and pieces of it, of its ruins, floating through space. Of her parents dying, of so many people she had known dying.  
  
A sharp pain went through her chest, along with anger and leftover grief, and she tugged on the lever beside the valves she was done with repairing, trying to channel her anger, her remaining grief and guilt, along with her frustration at the situation at hand, into just getting this damned lever to budge. It wasn’t helping. She heard Han’s footsteps, felt his arms close to her in an attempt to help, and she nudged him roughly with her elbows, trying to get him to, in no uncertain terms, leave her alone and let her finish the repairs herself. She had it all under control. She didn’t need any help from anyone.  
  
“Hey, Your Worship,” Han said, and if Leia didn’t know better, she could have sworn he actually sounded vaguely hurt, even in his usual cockiness that managed to just about always get under her skin. “I was only trying to help.”  
  
Irritation spiked in Leia alongside the leftover frustration and grief. “Would you please stop calling me that?” she snapped.  
  
“Sure,” Han said, his voice suddenly growing softer, “Leia.”  
  
 _Leia. That’s the first time in a while he’s actually called me by name._ Not “Princess”, “Your Highness”, “Your Worship”, “Your Worshipfulness”, nothing like that, but “Leia”. Leia looked at him, surprised for a moment, before turning back to the repairs. “Oh, you make it so difficult sometimes,” she said. But even that was too simple. There was something about being cooped up inside this asteroid, an asteroid that seemed to frequently tremble, hiding away from the threat of Ventress’ ships, that was enough to put everyone on edge. Han and Threepio were frequently at one another’s throats, and Han seemed all too disapproving of the fact that they had Imperial stormtroopers on their ship now, even seeming to blame Ben for it (though he didn’t voice it out loud), Ben was worried not just about the stormtroopers but meeting up with the fleet, Ada was worried about the threat of the Imperials outside as well as inside (considering the prisoners), Threepio seemed to be downright hurt by Han sniping at him (more than usual, really), Chewie was simply tired of being cooped up on the ship (there had been times when he’d paced the ship almost restlessly, which had unnerved Leia), and Sabe herself was trying to keep calm, as best she could, in a crew of people that seemed to be constantly at one another’s throats (which was clearly taking a strain on her. Leia couldn’t help but feel bad for her; it couldn’t be easy trying to keep everyone under control. She’d probably had plenty of experience with it back when she’d been Queen of Naboo, but nonetheless, Leia couldn’t help but feel sorry for her). And it didn’t help that being cooped up on the ship so long had left everyone tired, tense, and on edge. Han had said they’d meet up with the fleet as soon as the repairs were done, but the repairs didn’t seem to be done any time soon.  
  
Threepio, Chewie and Han were doing the best they could, as was Ada, who helped around the ship some. But nonetheless, Leia was restless. And then there was Han himself.  
  
In truth, Leia had not expected to like Han when they had first met up if only to get safe passage to Alderaan (which had ultimately failed). He had seemed arrogant, presumptuous, and downright aggravating, but overtime, she had softened towards him. He could be noble at times, brave, selfless – even though he acted a lot like a scoundrel. Han would never admit it, of course, but he could be. He had a lot of potential to be better than he was, even though he didn’t admit it.  
  
And he was becoming better than he was, overtime. Still, he was selfish, self-centered, arrogant, and downright aggravating. She didn’t like those kinds of men. She liked nice men, noble men –  
  
\-- and yet there was something in Han where, though she would never admit it (she supposed everyone had secrets that a group of finely trained Imperial torturers could never get out of them, and she was no exception. Not even secrets related to the Rebellion, but to themselves), she couldn’t help but be drawn to them. That time when the asteroid had shook, for example, and Leia had fallen backwards into Han’s lap, his arms around her waist. And though she would never admit it – not even the Empire could ever get it out of her – there had been a moment where her heartbeat had sped up. Leia used to scoff at the idea of having “butterflies in one’s stomach”, but in this case, it wasn’t even butterflies – it felt as if a whole flock of mynocks were fluttering around in her stomach. Later, Han had let go, all while being his usual insufferably cocky self, but though Leia had tried to act as if nothing had happened, there was something in her that couldn’t forget that brief moment of intimacy, how  _close_  they’d been.  
  
But she barely had time for this. After all, she was the leader of a Rebellion. She had no time for foolish things like this. And even if she did, why Han?  
  
“I do,” Han said, “I really do. You could stand to be a bit nicer though.”  
  
“Me? Nicer?” Leia laughed sharply. “Look who’s talking.”  
  
“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” Han said, flashing that familiar charming smile that had probably won over a lot of girls back in his days hopping the Outer Rim. “Admit it, sometimes you think I’m all right.”  
  
Leia bumped her hand on the lever, winced. “Occasionally,” she said, rubbing her wounded hand gingerly, “Maybe. When you aren’t acting like…like a scoundrel.”  
  
“Scoundrel?” Han chuckled softly. “Scoundrel?” He became more serious, his voice growing softer. “I like the sound of that.”  
  
He took her hand. Leia could swear that her heart fluttered in her chest. His hands were already filthy with oil from working on repairs earlier, but they were warm hands. Callused hands too, no doubt from years of experience. And they were surprisingly gentle hands, a gentleness that she didn’t expect from the smuggler.  
  
 _Everyone’s got their secrets._ In Han Solo’s case, if he was trying to make it a secret that he had his softer side, he was already showing otherwise just through his actions alone.  
  
“Stop that,” she said, even as he massaged her wounded hand – he had skillful hands. Mechanic’s hands, long and tough and lean, while hers were smaller, but no less tough. They were smoother, though. “My hands are dirty.”  _And we shouldn’t be doing this. This is wrong. I’m the leader of a Rebellion; I don’t have time to fall in love. I can’t fall in love. I have too much to do to fall in love…_  
  
“Stop what?” Han said.  
  
“That!” Leia said. “My hands are dirty.”  
  
“Well, my hands are dirty too,” Han said. “What are you afraid of?”  
  
“I’m not afraid.”  _I’m afraid of a lot of things. I’m afraid of losing the war. I’m afraid of failure. I’m afraid of falling in love with you. I want to fall in love with you, and yet I can’t do that, not in a time like this…_  
  
“You’re trembling.” Gently, Han took Leia’s other hand from where it was resting on the console she had been helping repair earlier. Leia’s heart skipped a beat, and though she tried to suppress it, tried to keep calm – she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t act like some giddy little schoolgirl having her first kiss – Han was right, she was trembling, but not necessarily out of fear – she was also excited, strangely excited, she hadn’t felt like this in perhaps a while –  
  
“I’m not trembling.” Her mouth suddenly felt dry.  
  
Han’s voice became soft, tender, intimate. “You like me because I’m a scoundrel,” he said. “There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”  
  
“I happen to like nice men,” Leia said.  
  
Han grinned. “I’m a nice man, sweetheart.”  
  
“No, you’re not,” Leia said, all but laughing, “You’re – ’’  
  
They kissed then, and it was like nothing Leia had experienced. She had experienced it before, with a boy she had once loved on Alderaan, before his death, but Han – the boy she had once loved was slow and careful and gentle, and Han was too, but there was a sort of passion in his touch that seemed to make her body almost melt against the console. The ship seemed to fade away for a moment, and there was Han, kissing her with a surprising gentleness mixed with a passion that was enough to floor her. She pushed into him, returning the kiss with a passion that she didn’t know she had. Han slowly worked his fingers through her hair, careful not to undo her braid, and then –  
  
“Sir, sir!” Threepio’s voice. “I’ve isolated the reverse power flux coupling!”  
  
They broke away. Leia could feel Han’s disappointment, and his irritation with Threepio. Leia herself, meanwhile, was still stunned, trying to recover from the kiss – what had she just done? How could she have allowed herself to have this moment of weakness like this?  
  
Han’s voice was icy as he spoke to Threepio. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”  
  
“Oh, you’re perfectly welcome, sir,” Threepio said, blissfully oblivious to Han’s sarcasm. He shuffled off, preparing to work on more of the repairs.  
  
Leia couldn’t be around Han. More than that, she had to get out of there before someone saw the two of them together. Han tried to reach for her, but Leia didn’t listen. She needed to get out. She had to get out of here before anyone started asking questions – whether it be Ada, Sabe, or anyone for that matter. She had to get to the cockpit, she had to be alone.  
  
She had to have time to think. Perhaps in time, she would be able to talk to Han about this, to smooth it over, maybe pretend that she could go back to acting like nothing had happened…  
  
And yet she couldn’t. Because she had a feeling that at least in one area, nothing would ever be the same again. 


	12. Chapter Twelve: The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara attempts to face her fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Another favorite of mine. I just love how creepy it gets later.

“Use the Force, yes…”  
  
Yoda’s voice was a faint rasp in Mara’s ear even as the other woman stood on her hands, upside down, levitating the rocks with the Force. In all honesty, Mara couldn’t say what levitating the rocks upside down had to do with anything, but nonetheless, there was something about it where she seemed to at least be getting better. At least, better than she had before. Which, at least, was encouraging.  
  
The rocks still felt heavy even as she used the Force to levitate them, concentrating, almost feeling their weight in her mind, drops of sweat leaking down her forehead, a migraine beginning to build up behind her eyebrows, but nonetheless, Mara thought, she could do it. It seemed almost as easy as using the Force to call her lightsaber to her.  
  
“Yes, good,” Yoda said. “Through the Force, things you will feel. Visions of the future, the past, old friends long gone…”  
  
And Mara could feel them. Han and Leia. Though they were miles away, no doubt still inside that asteroid, hiding out from the Empire, she could feel them nonetheless. A sudden, ripping pang went through her heart, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep calm. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way, not now. Force knew she still missed the group of them like mad, but it couldn’t be allowed to get in the way of her training.  
  
“Yes,” she said. “I feel them.”  
  
And it was then that she felt something else. Bits and pieces, yes, as faint as a signal coming over a comm, but nonetheless, it was there.  
  
 _The faint sound of heavy breathing, emanating from the Dark Side cave. Her father’s breathing, heavy and steady as it always was._  
  
 _A voice, deep and smooth and dignified. “Tell me, Master Yoda, are these clones, these men you so willingly sacrifice in the line of fire…are they going to thank you for teaching them that war is glorious?”_  
  
 _The Emperor’s voice, slithering like a snake, almost oily in nature. “Strike me down with all your hatred and your journey to the Dark Side will be complete!”_  
  
 _Ventress’ voice, heavily accented, smoking with barely suppressed rage. “Jedi! Their order is a fading light in the dark – corrupt and arrogant. The Jedi must fall.”_  
  
 _A voice, distorted as if through some sort of mask, not echoing and deep like her father’s, but almost tinny in nature. “The Force will change you. It will destroy you. Some fear this change. The teachings of the Jedi are focused on fighting and controlling this transformation. That is why those who serve the light are limited in what they accomplish.”_  
  
“Mara?” Vader’s voice, gentle, concerned.  
  
 _“Do you see, Jedi? Do you_ see _?”_  
  
“Mara!”  
  
Mara blinked, gasping for breath, before falling to the ground. The stones fell to the ground with her. She looked around, still feeling the coldness of the Dark Side cave on Dagobah, the chill of the Dagobah air, looking up at Vader, who looked down at her with worry. Luke, Padme and Terminus also went to her side, clearly anxious.  
  
“Mara.” Terminus’ voice was clearly tight and tense with anxiety. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah.” Mara sighed. “There’s just something about that cave is all.”  
  
“I see.” Terminus took Mara’s hand, pulling her to her feet, before turning to Yoda. “Master Yoda, if you’ll excuse the both of us…”  
  
Yoda merely nodded, face impassive.  
  
They walked away from the cave – much to Mara’s relief – and Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened,” she said, “But the cave – I think it had to do with being near to the cave, because I think I had these visions.”  
  
“Of what?” Terminus said.  
  
“The future,” Mara said. “The past. But mostly the past.”  
  
“Indeed.” Terminus said. “This cave is strong in the Dark Side of the Force. I suppose it is no surprise that you saw visions of the Sith Lords past, perhaps visions of the past that we did not quite tell you about. And perhaps a glimpse of the future. And a bit of the present.” Mara listened to him, and there was something about his heavy breathing here that did not seem as ominous as when she heard it in her visions. In a way, she had become too used to Terminus. Attached to him. The fact that he was her father was not a source of shame, but in a way, his presence was a strange source of comfort.  
  
“Makes sense.” Mara sat down on one of the logs. “I’m just…tired is all.” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Father, but I’ve been having really bad dreams.”  
  
“What kinds?” Terminus said.  
  
“I don’t know,” Mara said. “Things that seemed like visions, actually. In them, I see the Emperor, and he’s tempting me to become his apprentice.”  
  
“Well,” Terminus said, “You won’t. You are a stronger person than I am. And even if he wanted to have you, I would fight him before I let that happen.”  
  
Silence. “You weren’t weak for believing the Emperor,” Mara said.  
  
“I was,” Terminus said. “I was…naïve. I believed he could help protect you, and your mother, and your brother. And I was vulnerable, tired, grief-stricken…in a way, one could say it was the perfect way for the Emperor to prey upon me. But you…you don’t have those problems. You are young, after all. And you are determined and strong. You and your mother are very much alike.”  
  
There was something in Mara that couldn’t help but feel a sudden warmth go through her, even in spite of the heaviness of the conversation. She smiled. “I do try to be,” she said. “I try to be like the both of you. I mean, Master Yoda probably sees this as a bad thing. But I think even after all you’ve done, it’s not a bad thing entirely. Not really.”  
  
“It’s bad in some places, good in others,” Terminus said. “I know there are plenty of my mistakes you don’t wish to emulate.”  
  
“I know,” Mara said. “But I’m not planning on emulating that. I’m thinking of emulating the best of you. The man you were, and the man you’re trying to be.”  
  
Silence. Terminus didn’t cry; Mara doubted he could anymore, and even if he could, he wouldn’t. He was a stoic man, her father, not one to wear his emotions for everyone to see. Nonetheless, she could feel the same warmth she had felt earlier when he had spoken of how she was a lot like her mother spread from him. “I am…truly flattered, Mara,” he said.  
  
“It is the truth, you know,” Mara said, grinning. Then she faltered. “So the cave…there’s actually something I’m wondering about, Father.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I’m thinking of going in there.”  
  
Terminus tilted his head. His face seemed impassive, but the light that was cast near his eyes showed that he was clearly disconcerted, to put it mildly, about the idea. “I doubt that’s a good idea.”  
  
“I know it sounds insane,” Mara said, “But I’m just…tired of having these nightmares about the Emperor. And I can’t face the Empire if I’m having nightmares about them, if I’m unprepared, or anything like that.” She took a deep breath. “I need to at least face the Emperor. Please. At least let me do that.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I can see where you are coming from,” said Terminus. “But let me go with you then. The power in the cave is indeed overwhelming. There are few that can resist it even at the best of times.” He looked towards the cave, which seemed to have redoubled its whispers with a greater intensity. Mara could faintly hear things such as  _“As last we shall reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we shall have our revenge_ ” and other whispers, whispers that seemed indistinct in that strange, terrible cave.  
  
Mara merely nodded. “Okay,” she said. “So, are there any monsters in the cave waiting to jump out at us I should be aware of?”  
  
“No doubt.”  
  
They walked into the cave, and Mara shivered, drawing her cloak tighter around her. She could hear the faint cooing and squawking of animals that burrowed within the cave, and faint, indistinct whispers, strange sounds that were unlike any language Mara had ever heard. They continued into the cave, Terminus’ breathing heavy and steady and a strange comfort to Mara inside the damp, moist cave with the whispers surrounding her, leaving her skin erupting in a case of gooseflesh. The cave seemed to stretch on for what seemed like forever, a hallway that stretched out, dark and damp and deep.  
  
Mara turned to look at her father, who seemed unnerved (though he would not be the man to admit it) by the cave. “Are you okay?” she said.  
  
“I am,” Terminus said. “I merely remember too much. The past, the present…even the future seems to be in this cave. Such Dark Side places channel such energy.”  
  
“So they can see the future then?”  
  
“Most can,” said Terminus. “Sith Lords about to rise, battles that will go on, the rise and fall of tyrants.”  
  
“And what of the Light Side?”  
  
“The Light can see them too,” said Terminus, “Though it is more imprecise. It is not as strong as the Dark Side, the pull of it.”  
  
Ahead of Mara, she thought she could hear something that sounded faintly like faint clicks, and odd war cries. She turned to look at Terminus. “What the stang was that?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Terminus said. “I can only assume it is a snippet of the future. What is left to come.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, strong and gloved – it was tight and yet oddly comforting. A hell of a word to associate with Terminus, but nonetheless, it was a comfort to her, in a sense.  
  
And it was then that she saw him. A faint shape, black-cloaked in the darkness, his face pale and sickly and leering at her underneath the hood. Mara drew her lightsaber. The Emperor-figure drew his, a radiant scarlet in the darkness of the cave. Terminus also drew his lightsaber. The two of them fought against the Emperor figure, who seemed to almost anticipate every move they made, moving like a master of his art, circling out of the way of them, his horrible, cackling laughter transforming his face into some macabre mockery of glee.  
  
Mara fought against him, sweat pouring down her body, until, finally, she drove her lightsaber into the Emperor’s heart. He fell to the ground, laughing still – the maniacal laughter on his face did not seem to have ceased even in death.  
  
Mara stood there even as the Emperor shape fell to the ground, the laughter suddenly dying even as it became Mara’s form. Her face was pale, her eyes gold with the Dark Side, but nonetheless, it was Mara’s face. Then it vanished, Mara still staring in shock and horror at the ground where it had been.  
  
She turned to look at Terminus, who looked down at the ground, no shock in his eyes, but a sort of heavy sadness. “Father,” she said, softly, “What’s going to happen to me?”  
  
Terminus was quiet.  
  
“Is that what happens when I kill the Emperor?” Mara said, more urgently this time. “Is that what will happen to me?”  
  
“I do not know,” Terminus said. “But whatever happens, I will be there to help you nonetheless. Padme and Vader and many others will be there. However terrible things may appear, we will be able to save you, Mara, from yourself.” 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Mynocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Han Solo happens to be wrong, and Leia is around to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Writing the conversation between Leia and Sabe and Ada was one of my favorites, even if it was difficult to write. Also, the bit of humor at the end despite the situation.

The  _Millennium Falcon_ was quiet that night even as the repairs continued to get done. Ben seemed to be asleep for the moment, as were the stormtroopers – thank the stars, Leia thought – and the others seemed to be quiet for the night. Han and Threepio seemed to be up at least, but they seemed to be the only ones up.  
  
Well, besides Leia, of course.  
  
Leia ran her hand along the control panel, feeling suddenly tired, more tired than she had before. Han…in truth, she couldn’t say she knew how to feel about Han. After one boy she had loved, Kyle, had died in the destruction of Alderaan, she had vowed to not love anyone else. It was one of many reasons she’d been trying to keep herself away from Han. That and the matter of duty, the matter of the Rebellion needing to be saved, and the fact that in truth, she couldn’t say how she felt about Han. In truth, when they had first met, Han’s attitude had gotten on her nerves quickly. But now…  
  
She couldn’t help but be captivated by him even though she didn’t want to. The way he spoke, the way he had this sort of cocky grin whenever he was about to pull off a particularly absurd scheme…  
  
 _I can’t think like this. I can’t –_  
  
 _\-- why not? It’s been three years since Kyle died on Alderaan. Isn’t it time to move on?_  
  
No. She wasn’t ready to move on. Not yet. Even closing her eyes, trying to imagine Kyle’s face, the same sort of cocky grin that Han had once, the gleam in his eyes whenever he was about to do something particularly reckless, she could still see Han’s face. The way he had gently taken her injured hand, massaged it…  
  
“Hey.” Ada’s voice. Leia turned around and looked at Ada, who had come up with Sabe. Sabe was in her nightgown; with her hair let down and almost messy in nature, her face gleaming with sweat, she seemed almost like any ordinary woman. She almost, Leia thought, looked like Breha, her mother, when she was about to go to bed. Ada, meanwhile, was stained with engine grease, and her hands looked a bit burned.  
  
“Hey.” Leia furrowed her brow. “Are you all right, Ada? Your hands…”  
  
“I’m fine,” Ada said. “Just had a bit of a…mishap while fixing the ship. More precisely, I think something went off…but my hands are okay. Sabe managed to help heal them up.” She smiled. “Sabe’s a pretty good healer.”  
  
“I’ve had some practice,” said Sabe. “I’m not perfect, exactly, but I’m generally good.” She looked at Leia in concern. “Are you doing all right, by the way? You seem to be drifting, Leia.”  
  
“I’m not drifting,” Leia said. “I’m…remembering. Thinking.”  _And a hell of a lot of other things that I shouldn’t be doing in the middle of the night._ If it was the middle of the night. It was hard to tell in space, but for all intents and purposes, Leia might as well have been trying to get into the Rebel Insomniacs’ Hall of Fame.  
  
“About what?” Sabe spoke so gently, so considerately, that Leia almost felt ashamed of the sudden flare of defensiveness that cropped up in her. She didn’t want to talk about Han, or about Kyle, for that matter. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened in that part of the ship. About…  
  
Leia sighed. “Sabe…I think I might be in love.” There. There it was. Right out in the open, where Sabe could either laugh or scold Leia for thinking about such frivolous things in a time of war, but instead, Sabe looked at her, gentle, alert, curious. Ada, meanwhile, looked concerned as well.  
  
“With who?” Ada said.  
  
“Well,” Leia said, “This is ridiculous, but I think I might be…I think I might be in love with Han.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Leia almost expected Ada to turn to Sabe and smirk, maybe go “I knew it! You owe me twenty five credits, Sabe!”, but instead, though there was a hint of a smile on Ada’s face, it was a gentle one.  
  
“That’s not a bad thing, Leia,” she said.  
  
“It is.” Leia sighed. “I can’t think about these things. Not when there’s a war to win. And not after…after…”  
  
“After Kyle?” Ada’s voice was still gentle.  
  
Leia nodded. Already, she felt a sudden lump welling up in her throat. “I wasn’t there to save him,” she said. “I wasn’t there to save anyone.”  
  
“Leia,” Ada said, “It’s not your fault. It was Tarkin’s.” Her voice hardened. “And honestly, regarding the Death Star getting blown up, I say it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”  
  
“But what about the others on the Death Star?” said Sabe.  
  
“Well, not really,” Ada said, and she seemed to soften a bit, seeming almost ashamed of what she said, “But Tarkin…Tarkin deserved it. But not the others.”  
  
“ ‘Deserved’ is usually a harsh word,” Sabe said. “Very few deserve the fate thrust upon them. Very few.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I suppose not.” Ada sighed. “I guess I’m not good at this whole mercy thing.”  
  
“You are young,” Sabe said. “And you are still hurt from Alderaan, as is Leia. And Ben. And many others. You will learn in time, however. Just as Leia will learn.”  
  
“I don’t hate those on the Death Star who died,” Leia said.  _Not all of them, at least._ “It is hard to forgive them, though.”  
  
“I know,” Sabe said.  
  
“And I can’t really forgive myself. If I’d been quicker…” Leia’s voice cracked, and she had to look away from Sabe and Ada to regain her composure. Ada placed a hand gently on her shoulder.  
  
“Kyle wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Ada said. “And I don’t think he’d want you to keep going like this.”  
  
“I guess not.” Who knew what Kyle would have wanted? He was dead now. The dead didn’t have wishes. Not always, at least. Nonetheless, Leia could imagine him, standing by her, telling her to move on, to be happy.  _Don’t carry the weight of the dead, Leia._  
  
“I admit,” Sabe said, “I don’t know much about Kyle. Can you…tell me of him, Leia?”  
  
Leia took a deep breath. It was going to be difficult, but she could at least try. “Kyle was a childhood friend of mine,” Leia said. “I remember that we were very close. We…” A faint chuckle escaped Leia. “If I recall, we used to play pranks together. I was always getting him into trouble, but I was there to get him back out as well. Can’t say that Ben approved; he was always the more…restrained of us.”  
  
Ada chuckled. “I think the word you’re looking for, Leia, is ‘uptight’.”  
  
“Ben is not uptight!” Leia said, and even in spite of herself, she laughed, perhaps the first, genuine laugh she’d had since Han had kissed her.  
  
“Oh, please,” Ada said, grinning. “He’s so uptight that the Coruscanti Boy Scouts would tell him to lighten up…”  
  
“Excuse me,” Sabe said, a faint smile playing on her face, “That’s my  _son_  you’re talking about.”  
  
“Right. Sorry,” Ada said.  
  
“No harm done,” Sabe said, “Though I think that ‘uptight’ is a harsh word for him. He is…obedient and dutiful. Like his father.”  
  
Leia almost couldn’t picture Terminus as a young man. She tried, but even so, she kept thinking of the black-armored man who seemed to tower over just about everyone, the man who never truly betrayed his emotions, was just about always stoic and gentle and rather soft-spoken. And the man she and Ben had known earlier – ominous, breathing heavy and mechanical, able to frighten anyone just by standing there and watching them. She couldn’t picture what he was like before he had put on the mask, or what had driven him to put on the mask. She’d gotten bits and pieces of his life before the mask, but she doubted she could ever make a concrete picture in her mind. To her, it almost seemed like picturing Padme when she was young – she was so used to them as they were in this moment, as they were now, that even the thought of them when they were young seemed bizarre to her.  
  
And Ben…Ben was nothing like Terminus. He was not as brutal as Terminus was. Ben was gentle, soft-spoken, barely able to kill an enemy. Which was noble, but also would give them plenty of problems to deal with in the future.  
  
“But anyway,” Sabe said, “Tell us more about Kyle.”  
  
“Right.” Leia took a deep breath. “I think we fully entered a relationship when I was…possibly sixteen. It was a year before I took my place in the Senate. I was hesitant at first, because I still had duties ahead of me, I knew I did, and I knew I would someday have to continue my father’s work. But he actually took me to one of the pools on Alderaan, and it was there that I actually had my first kiss with him.” Even remembering it, the tremble of excitement in her belly at the time, when she and Kyle were both sixteen years old and innocent and hardly aware of the sorrows ahead of them, Leia could not help but look away from Sabe and Ada. She didn’t want them to see her about to cry. Even Ada, who had been one of her close friends for a long time, could not see her like this. She could still remember the fresh scent of flowers by the pool, how, even in that kiss, she felt as if she were flying. She took a deep breath. “Seventeen years old, I entered the Senate, and later signed up for the Rebellion. It was simply seeing everything on Alderaan, Sabe – I couldn’t stand it. The corruption, the decadence, the cruelty of the Empire towards others…stang it, Tarkin owned Admiral Ackbar as a slave once. And I couldn’t take it. I had to do something, I had to act. So I led a double life for many years. I didn’t tell Kyle much about it, because I didn’t know how he would take it, but I saw him when I could. And then…well, I assume you know the rest.” Leia closed her eyes. “I wish I had told him the truth. But I don’t know if even that would have saved him in the end. Or anyone on Alderaan.”  
  
Silence fell.  
  
“Leia,” Sabe said, “I am so sorry.”  
  
“It isn’t your fault,” said Leia.  
  
“Still, I am sorry about Alderaan. How you lost your friends, your family, the man you loved. It must have been terrible for you.” Leia felt a sudden stab of anger in her but there was something about Sabe’s voice, gentle, genuinely sad, that softened her anger.  
  
“It is,” Leia said. “The most I’ve done so far is bury myself in fighting the Empire. It’s the best I can do. But Han…” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Sabe. I do love him, but I fear that I may be betraying Kyle’s memory…”  
  
“Do you still love him?”  
  
Leia nodded.  
  
“Then,” Sabe said, “You aren’t betraying him. Keep him in your memories, in your heart, but don’t keep them from letting you move forward. Because you need to move forward, Leia. And if you love Han as well, then don’t be afraid to do so.”  
  
Somehow, Leia thought, she felt something loosening in her chest. “You…you’re right, Sabe.” She took a deep breath. “I will confess I am afraid.”  
  
Sabe placed a hand on her shoulder. “Change is a frightening process, Leia,” she said, “But sometimes it leaves room to heal.”  
  
She embraced Leia then, and Leia lay her head against Sabe’s shoulder, a gesture, she thought, that almost reminded her of her mother, back when she had lived, back when she was giving Leia advice. There was something comforting about that fact. Leia supposed that even at twenty three years old now, she still needed a mother figure in her life. Her biological mother was long dead, but she still had Breha, deep in her heart. And she had Sabe as an almost substitute mother. She and Padme both were mothers to the strange crew that had formed ever since Leia and Ben had crash-landed on Tatooine, and Leia doubted that she would have it any other way.  
  
They were startled out of the moment by a sudden squawk. Leia looked up only to see something flapping against the window. She sighed, shook her head. “Mynocks,” she said. “Come on, Ada, Sabe; let’s go check it out.”  
  
Even as they headed out of the ship, however, there was something strange, Leia thought, about the ground. It didn’t feel like rock at all. Instead, it felt almost gooey, mushy – almost as if they were inside a living creature. Or perhaps there was just some strange cave within the asteroid? Leia was grateful in that moment to have her breath mask on, and that Ada and Sabe had their breath masks as well; she couldn’t imagine what kind of gases they could accidentally inhale otherwise.  
  
“Ground doesn’t quite feel right,” Ada said. “Feels a bit…mushy. Muddy.” She jumped on it, only for the cave to suddenly shake.  
  
“Ada,” Leia said. “Be careful. You don’t know what’s going to happen.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” said Ada. “I just have a bad feeling about this is all. Like Han didn’t pick the right location…”  
  
“Probably not.”  
  
It was then that the mynocks flew at them. Leia placed her arms over her head to shield them from the mynocks’ rapidly flapping wings, while Ada fired at the mynocks. By now, the rest of the crew was rushing out – Threepio shouting at the “beastly things” to get away from him, Han cursing and shooting at the mynocks, Chewie trying to ward them off with his bowcaster, and even the stormtroopers seeming to have woken up briefly to help out. Apparently, Leia thought wryly, even the stormtroopers didn’t seem to like mynocks very much. She supposed when this was all over, she owed the stormtroopers a bit of thanks.  
  
It was then that the cave suddenly shook, trembled, sending Leia tumbling to the ground. Ada took her hand, pulled her up. “Leia! Are you all right?”  
  
“I am,” Leia said. “I think we should get back on the ship.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
They dashed up the ship, the mynocks seeming to flood away abruptly even as they headed back into the ship. “Right,” Han said, “We’re getting out of here.”  
  
“Are you joking?” Leia said. “The Empire is still out there; we can’t –’’  
  
“We don’t have time to discuss this in committee!”  
  
“I am not a committee!” Leia snapped even as she rushed up to the cockpit with Han. By now, the smuggler seemed to have prepared in advance for take-off, pulling back on the throttle.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Leia said. “You can’t jump to lightspeed while we’re still in the asteroid field!”  
  
“Sit down, sweetheart,” Han said, “We’re taking off.”  
  
Leia sat down next to him as they headed up, up, up towards the cave entrance, gripping the armrests of her chair the entire time.  _Stang, I hope he knows what he’s doing._ She just hoped that one day, Han was going to be wrong, and she’d be there to witness it.  
As they headed towards the cave entrance, Chewie roared, and Threepio said, “Look! Out there!”  
  
“I see it, I see it,” Han said.  
  
A row of giant stalagmites and stalactites, which looked too much, Leia thought, like the teeth of a giant predator, threatened to close around the ship. “The cave’s collapsing!” Leia said. “We have to get out of here.”  
  
“This is no cave,” Han said grimly.  
  
“What?”  _Then what were we parked in this whole time?_  
  
And it was then she realized as the mouth of the cave seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, as the stalagmites and stalactites seemed to mash and champ like teeth. Those weren’t stalagmites and stalactites at all.  
  
They were  _teeth_.  
  
All this time, Han Solo had parked them in the belly of a giant asteroid predator. Leia would have almost laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire.  
  
The ship rocked, turning over on its side. “What are you doing?” Leia said.  
  
“Trying to see if we’ll fit,” Han said. “If we can squeeze through those teeth…”  
  
“You’re not going to make it!”  
  
Han grinned back at her. “Just you watch me, sweetheart.”  
  
They, miraculously, managed to fit through the increasingly small exit of the mouth of the predator that Han had landed in. Leia looked back just in time to see the face of a massive space slug as it bucked up, roaring in fury that its prey managed to get away in time.  
  
And Leia looked back at Han, sighing in relief. “I can’t believe you landed us in the belly of a space slug.”  
  
“Neither do I, sweetheart,” Han said. “Good news is that we’re out of here now.” He sighed. “We still have that damn asteroid field to contend with, but at least we can get through there, jump to lightspeed, and make it to the rendez-vous on time.”  
  
“Hopefully,” Leia said.  
  
“Well, look on the bright side, sweetheart,” Han said, “At least it’ll make one hell of a story to tell the Rebellion when we get back.”  
  
And even in spite of herself, Leia laughed – the others eventually joining in the chuckles as well. Even though they were nowhere close to reaching the rendez-vous point – even if the hyperdrive was fixed, jumping to lightspeed in a massive asteroid field would be suicide – at least they were out of danger. At least for now.  
  
Leia knew that they still had a long way to go in order to get to the rendez-vous point. The Empire was still out there, after all, tracking them. But whatever it took, they would manage to get through this, no matter what. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Hunt for the Falcon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Falcon momentarily escapes Ventress, unaware their troubles are far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Really liked writing this bit! Was definitely difficult in regards to giving the bounty hunters distinctive voices and whatnot, but I think I managed to pull it off okay. That and it was pretty fun. (Then again, when isn't writing for the bad guys fun in at least some ways?)

On the bridge of the  _Executor,_ Asajj Ventress casually surveyed the array of bounty hunters that she had before her, ignoring the faint mutters of distaste from Piett and the others. She knew full well that they had no fondness of bounty hunters, believing them to be no more than cynical mercenaries out to make a quick credit, but in this case, Ventress thought, she could use them to her advantage. The officers left quickly, something about an alert from Captain Needa’s ship, the  _Avenger_. Ventress, meanwhile, paced up and down, looking at the bounty hunters – the bounty hunter Aurra Sing, for example, the war droid IG-88, Zuckuss, a Gand, Dengar, a human bounty hunter who appeared to have seen the roughest parts of the galaxy, Bossk, a Trandoshan with a grudge against Han Solo and Chewbacca, which would prove to be quite useful to Ventress’ cause, and of course, Boba Fett.  
  
Ventress was marginally familiar with him – she had worked briefly with his father, Jango Fett, during the Clone Wars, before Jango Fett had been killed by Mace Windu. Ever since the death of his father, Boba Fett had developed quite a grudge against the Jedi, which could also be used to their advantage. That and Boba Fett was quite an accomplished bounty hunter in his own right – perhaps, in a way, following in his father’s footsteps. Boba himself had grown much from when Ventress had first seen him at least in passing – a small boy with thick dark hair and a round face, and a sort of innocent nature that contrasted greatly with the masked figure in front of her: merciless, pitiless, and ruthlessly logical. Boba Fett was also working for Jabba the Hutt, a bit of a rival for Han Solo on that front, which could also work to their advantage.  
  
“I assume you know why I have called you here,” Ventress said.  
  
Silence. They all listened, clearly seeming restless, all except Aurra Sing, who was completely calm and impassive, and Boba Fett, whose face was hard to read as always behind that visor.  
  
“There will be an exceptional reward for capturing the  _Millennium Falcon_ ,” said Ventress. “You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive. Do not disintegrate them or kill them, or the consequences will be severe.”  
  
“ _Why not kill them?_ ” Bossk hissed softly in indignance. “ _Why not shoot them to bits and spare us all the trouble?_ ”  
  
Ventress sighed. “They are important Imperial prisoners,” she said. “Having them killed would be…counterproductive.”  
  
“ _You are foolish,_ ” Bossk said. “ _You could simply kill them and collect the bounty that way. Why – ’’_  
  
Ventress reached out towards Bossk to choke him with the Force. It took a while, after Bossk was practically spluttering with a combined lack of oxygen and pure rage, that Ventress released him. The other bounty hunters barely flinched, though Ventress could swear that there was some sort of amusement radiating from Fett – Bossk and Fett were not on good terms with one another, and though Fett would not display it outwardly, he was clearly pleased to see his rival brought low.  
  
“Does anyone  _else_  have any questions?” Ventress said.  
  
“No, Lady Ventress,” Fett said, completely calm. “We will do as you say. No disintegrations.”  
  
“I have no doubt.” Of all the bounty hunters she had hired – mostly out of desperation more than anything else. Ventress usually found the idea of using bounty hunters distasteful, but in times of war, distasteful measures had to be executed. Lord Sidious, for all his many failings, knew this – she had the most faith in Fett. Bossk was determined, IG-88 cunning, Zuckuss uncannily accurate, Dengar ruthless and cruel, and Aurra Sing quick and skilled, but Boba Fett, despite his failure at Ord Mantell to capture Han Solo, was the one that Ventress had the most faith in. It wasn’t just the fact that she had worked with him before, but also the fact that even if she hadn’t, Boba Fett was uncanny, skilled, cunning – much like his father.  
  
It was then that Admiral Piett walked towards Ventress. “Lady Ventress!” he said, bowing quickly. “We have them.”  
  
***  
  
“Oh, thank goodness we’re coming out of the asteroid field!”  
  
This had to be the third or so hit he had to his reputation so far, because really, Han thought, he never thought that he would see the day that he would agree with Goldenrod, but so far, it looked like he was agreeing with Goldenrod more times than he would have liked. Next he would have to check out the window to see if there were flying banthas threatening to hit the  _Falcon_ , because honestly, this was a weird series of days.  
  
But the asteroids seemed to be eventually dying down the further out they got. Han sighed in relief. Perhaps they would find a way to make a jump to –  
  
It was then that a blast from the  _Executor_  brought the urgency of the situation back to Han’s attention. Yeah, definitely time to make a jump to lightspeed.  
  
“Let’s get out of here,” Han said. “Ready to jump to lightspeed?”  
  
“Yeah,” Ada said. Behind her, Goldenrod seemed to make a motion to say something, but Han wasn’t paying attention. They needed to get out of here. They needed –  
  
He pulled on the throttle. No budge. There was the faint squealing sound of the hyperdrive, only for it to die down.  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Han said. Next to him, Chewie put his head in his hands, whining. If there was a way that Wookiees could express the you-done-kriffed-up-this-time emotion, it looked like Chewie had captured it right there.  
  
Leia, meanwhile, looked over his shoulder, sighed. “No lightspeed?”  
  
“I thought I fixed it!” Han said. “It’s not my fault.” Had something gone wrong in the repairs? Had the mynocks somehow kriffed everything up? Did Goldenrod – ?  
  
“This is your fault, isn’t it?” he said to Goldenrod.  
  
“Sir!” Goldenrod sounded offended. “I had nothing to do with it. It must have had something to do with the mynock infestation. That or the reverse power flux coupling was the least of our – ’’  
  
A hit on the back of the  _Falcon_  cut them both off. Alarms went through the ship. Han sighed. If the  _Executor_  got another direct hit on the back quarter, they were done for. He had to give Ventress credit; looked like she seemed to have finally backed them into a corner –  
  
 _No._ She hadn’t. Because he was Han Solo, and he was damned if he was going to just admit defeat like that.  
  
“Turn her around,” Han said.  
  
Chewie barked in puzzlement.  
  
“I said turn her around,” Han said. “I’m going to put all power in the front shield.”  
  
A series of astonished protests rose from the crew, Goldenrod trying to tell him that the odds of surviving a direct attack on a Star Destroyer (especially considering that Star Destroyers were basically giants, and the  _Falcon_ , while definitely not small stuff, couldn’t really hold up against a Star Destroyer), Sabe asking if he had thought this through (in truth, Han hadn’t. But he liked to think that when he did somehow succeed in pulling off a ridiculous plan that he managed to do it in spite of the odds. Never tell Han the odds, because somehow he’d find a way to prove you wrong), Leia and Ben expressing astonishment that he was going to attack them, Chewie looking at him as if he’d lost his mind, and Ada looking downright worried. Then Ada finally said, “I just hope you aren’t going to get us killed.”  
  
“Kiddo,” Han said, “I won’t. Trust me.”  
  
Silence. Then Leia spoke. “Just be careful.”  
  
Being careful wasn’t exactly in question when attacking a Star Destroyer that was much bigger than your ship. But nonetheless, Han grinned. “We’ll succeed, sweetheart,” he said. “Trust me.”  
  
And he put the power in the front shield, heading directly towards one of the Star Destroyers – the  _Avenger_ , it looked like, Captain Needa’s ship – barely managing to dodge the asteroids as well as the sudden bursts of laser fire from the larger Star Destroyer. Han steered towards the bridge window, briefly catching a glimpse of Captain Needa’s astonished face – that was a holo moment if there ever was one – before fastening onto the side of the  _Avenger._ The last place that Needa would ever look. Leia, meanwhile, looked at Han in astonishment.  
  
“So that – ’’  
  
“Yeah,” Han said. “Never say that I couldn’t pull off a plan, sweetheart.” He turned towards Chewie. “Chewie, go and stand by the manual release for the landing claw.”  
  
The Wookiee climbed out of the cabin and headed towards the back.  
  
“That’s all well and good,” Leia said, “But what do we do now?”  
  
“Well,” Han said, “If they follow standard Imperial procedure, they’ll dump their garbage out before they go to lightspeed. And then we’ll float away…”  
  
“With the rest of the garbage.” Leia looked astonished again, before chuckling, mostly in relief. “Han, I don’t know if that plan was suicidal or brilliant.”  
  
Han shrugged. “I’m frequently brilliant, sweetheart.”  
  
“You are full of it,” Leia said, but her tone was light.  
  
They both chuckled. Then Leia became more serious. “What do we do after that?”  
  
“Well,” Han said, “We’re going to have to find a safe port around here.”  
  
“I really don’t see how this is going to help,” Goldenrod said. “Surrender is a perfectly acceptable solution in circumstances such as these.”  
  
Han sent a look Goldenrod’s way. “Goldenrod,” he said, “You know what the Empire does to its prisoners? They torture them, they kill them, some of them even go insane.”  
  
Ada nodded. “I saw some of them,” she said. “When I was captured by Terminus and the others, I saw some of the more…zealous officers doing their work on the prisoners. All those people, screaming in pain…” She shook her head. “Some of them were reduced to insanity, just to cope.”  
  
Goldenrod didn’t seem to have the ability to look startled, but he seemed almost embarrassed. “I see,” he said. “I should not have said what I said. I was merely nervous.” He huffed a mechanical sigh. “If I may say so, sir,” he said to Han, “I doubt this will work. The odds of it working are approximately one thousand and eleven to one – ’’  
  
“Hey, Goldenrod,” Han said, a slight grin appearing on his face. “What did I say about telling me the odds?”  
  
“Not to tell you them, sir?” Goldenrod said. “Though – ’’  
  
“Exactly,” Han said. “All right…let’s see where we can land.”  
  
After a long while of rifling through systems – none of which seemed particularly interesting – Han came across something that seemed interesting enough, and that could work for the both of them. Lando Calrissian. Bespin. Han could still remember Lando, back when they had been partners in crime, subtly rebelling against the Empire just through their smuggling missions. He and Lando hadn’t exactly parted on good terms last they’d met, but it had been years. Lando had probably softened a bit. Hopefully.  
Yeah, definitely hopefully.  
  
And even if they weren’t on good terms, Lando wasn’t exactly on good terms with the Empire either, so there was that. Even if they had fallen out, they could at least agree that the Empire needed to be stopped. And maybe, Han thought, find a way to get the hyperdrive on the  _Falcon_  fixed.  
  
When he brought it up to Leia, she had at first been confused, thinking Han had been talking about the Lando system (which made Han chuckle. A whole system being named after Lando, or himself – that would be quite the day) before Han had explained it to her. “Smuggler, gambler, scoundrel,” he said, “You’d like him.”  
  
Leia chuckled. “Thanks.”  
  
“He’s on Bespin,” Han said. “It’s pretty far, but I think we can make it.”  
  
Leia tilted her head even as she looked at the viewscreen, which seemed to tint their faces a pale blue. The blue light did some eerie things to the Princess’ pale skin, though not exactly unpleasant things either. “A mining colony?” she said softly.  
  
“Tibanna gas mine,” Han said. “We go a long way back, Lando and me. Pretty far back.”  _Before we had that damn fight over those credits…_  
  
But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Lando had probably changed his mind about it. Or not. Some people could hold grudges for quite a while, and even Lando, who was normally easygoing, laidback, and generally a nice guy (probably one of the nicest people you could ever meet), probably had his limits to putting up with the stupid things Han did. How would he react to Han landing on his doorstep and going, “Hey, Lando, I’m sorry about ripping you off last time, but we need your help. Can you fix my ship”? It would probably take a long while for Lando to get used to seeing Han again.  
  
At least, that was Han’s feeling.  
  
“Can you trust him?” Leia said.  
  
Long ago, Han would have said, “Course I would”. Now, however, he wasn’t sure. Not in terms of Lando betraying him to the Empire – Lando would never do that – but in terms of being able to greet Han without probably shooting him for setting foot on Bespin in the first place. “Not sure,” he said. “But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that.”  
  
Chewie then barked over the intercom. Han switched the viewscreen away from the list of possible places to stay to get the  _Falcon_  fixed, as well as the map to Bespin, before looking out the window. The fleet was breaking up, and it looked as if it were about to jump to hyperspace. Han didn’t smile, kept his impassive, calm face, but inside, he was practically grinning.  _Perfect._  
  
“All right,” he said. “Chewie, detach!”  
  
They did so, all but free-falling away from the  _Avenger,_  a stream of the  _Avenger’s_ garbage flowing around them and with them. Leia shook her head in amazement before, unexpectedly, kissing Han’s cheek, which he couldn’t say he minded at all.  
  
“You do have your moments,” she said, smiling. “Not many of them, but you do have them.”  
  
Han chuckled. “Course I do, sweetheart.”  
  
It would take a while for them to meet up with the Rebels at the rendez-vous point – and Han had a feeling that the story they were going to tell General Rieekan and the others was just about to elicit more gasps and laughs of disbelief than anything else, like, “This couldn’t have possibly happened” or “Talk about your stream of bad luck, Solo” or “It’s a miracle you got out okay” or anything like that, because it seemed to be a whole string of bad luck and strange encounters and incidences over the course of a few days or so – but Han at least had some faith that they would get to Bespin, also known as one of those few safe ports in the galaxy that wasn’t the belly of a spaceslug (that, he thought, wasn’t one of his finest moments, come to think of it. In terms of stupid moments, it didn’t exactly crop the Top Three, but it was in the bottom ten at least), maybe make up with Lando and get the hyperdrive fixed so they could head out and meet up with the Rebels.  
  
That definitely sounded smoother than the rest of the days had been, hadn’t it? Han knew it did. Still, it would turn out in their favor in the end. After all, Han Solo wasn’t exactly a pessimist, really. Cynical in a lot of ways, yes. But he was also an optimist, in terms of things turning out in their favor. And in terms of this…  
  
Han sat back in the cockpit seat, allowing the path of the  _Avenger’s_ garbage to carry them towards Bespin, and whatever else lay ahead of them. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Vision of Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit begins to hit the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, looks like shit is just beginning to hit the fan here. Also, I really liked Terminus' part in this chapter -- honestly, I had a lot of fun writing Terminus (along with Han, Mara, Lando, etc.). And his speech (and Vader's) about being able to save Bespin from Ventress was probably one of my favorite parts to write.

It was in the middle of a meditation lesson with Padme that the vision struck.  
  
Mara sat with Padme for a while, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on her breathing, on keeping her body calm, on feeling the Force, completely and truly. Around her, the Dark Side energy streamed from the cave on Dagobah, but though Mara shuddered, it did not affect her as strongly as before. In fact, Mara thought, it almost didn’t affect her at all.  
  
Padme was with her, a faint shining light in the Force, a bright star through the mists of Dagobah that shielded their Force presences and muddled them – it was no doubt no wonder that Master Yoda had chosen to hide there. The Empire would never think to look on Dagobah, where the Force hid them all too well – and around her, Mara thought, she could feel the currents of the Force coming together, binding all of them. She had felt it before, on Hoth, and other places, but it was here on Dagobah where it truly came together, and it was wonderful.  
  
In fact, Mara thought, it was beautiful.  
  
She could feel it, the currents that bound everything on Dagobah, from the strange creatures that flapped through the air or lurked deep in Dagobah’s swamps or swung in their trees, to Yoda, sitting on a log, watching impassively, to Vader, having his own meditation lesson (he seemed to be getting better at it. Vader was not a man of meditation; he was too restless, too much of a man of action to really sit around and meditate, but he was getting calmer. Mara could feel it every day), to Terminus, standing there for a while, keeping guard, a silent, towering black figure, watching his daughter. And then there was herself. Artoo she couldn’t sense in the Force – after all, he was a droid, and droids were not part of the Force – but nonetheless, she could see him, a quiet figure, propped by Mara’s side, watching as well. Luke also sat on a log, curious, fascinated by what was happening.  
  
In the Force, they seemed to have their own presences as well. Vader was a storm cloud, volatile and dark, the prelude to a thunderstorm or a tornado. Not that he was threatening – indeed, Mara thought, he wasn’t threatening at all – but there was always that passion that brewed beneath the surface, instilled in him by his Sith training ever since he was a boy of nine years old (as Vader had told her. He had been clearly bitter speaking of Sidious’ training, though not of Ventress, or even Dooku and Grievous. And he had been bitter in terms of speaking of his former slave owner, Watto. “It’s been years,” he told her, “But I doubt I can forget. Or forgive.”). Master Yoda was a fountain of light, practically radiating the light side, it seeming to pour out of him. No matter what had happened, he had stayed pure. Luke was a faint star growing in light; he was nowhere near, say, Yoda or Padme or anyone, but he would get there. Padme was a bright star, shining with a sort of radiance that no one could touch, inspiring others, helping show others the way. And Terminus was a stormy meadow – a sort of innocence damaged, but slowly healing over. The storm would pass, in time. At least Mara hoped it would.  
  
Mara, in all honesty, didn’t know who she would be. Would she become like Vader and Terminus, or like Padme? Or even the Emperor, who, in her nightmares, was complete blackness, complete emptiness, the sort of darkness that every Dark Sider no doubt dreamed of being? She didn’t know who she would be. It seemed that her fate rested on the edge of a vibroblade, on the edge of a cliff – stray but a bit and she would fall in either direction. Even thinking about it was enough to terrify her.  
She was getting better, Padme said. But Mara knew that it was mostly in skill. In terms of things like the cave in Dagobah, trying to beat up the Emperor phantom was a start, but she hadn’t quite reached the necessary composure to become a Jedi.  
  
Would she ever truly be a Jedi? Mara didn’t know. But by the stars themselves, she would try.  
  
She took a deep breath, immersing herself in the currents of the Force again, in the faint humming of Dagobah that seemed to have become almost comforting, in a strange way. Dagobah was not a sort of planet one would call comforting – well, except Master Yoda, and it wasn’t as if the former Jedi Master really had a lot of options in picking a planet where the Empire wouldn’t catch him – but nonetheless, there was something about the individual currents of each thing, every tree and every creature and every person that seemed to blend together and make a comforting sort of buzz in Mara’s head. They were luminous beings, Master Yoda had said. Not this crude matter.  
  
But even that was disrupted. The Force – the Force began to scream with its warning, like proximity alarms blaring through a ship under siege, and Mara saw it.  
  
 _Han, stretched out on some rack, crying out in pain – to even make those sounds come out of Han was enough to make Mara’s chest clench._  
  
 _Leia, being tortured. Ada, being tortured. Threepio, dismantled._  
  
 _Sabe, her face badly cut, glaring defiantly up at her captors. “You are a sick and evil woman, Asajj Ventress. And you will fall, soon enough.”_  
  
 _Chewie, covering his ears just to deal with the shrieking._  
  
 _Standing inside what looked like a carbon freezing chamber, with Boba Fett, the bounty hunter they had encountered long ago on Ord Mantell, standing next to Ventress. “What if he doesn’t survive? He’s worth a lot to me.”_  
  
 _Sabe stepping forward. “Wait! Please. I’m surely more of use to you than Han. Take me. I’m a political enemy of the Empire. Take me.”_  
  
 _A city in the clouds, Bespin, beautiful and peaceful, but at the same time, Mara could see Ventress and the others taking it over, citizens fleeing in fear…_  
  
“Mara.  _Mara_!”  
  
Padme’s voice, gentle, urgent, jarring Mara out of her vision. Mara took a sharp breath, trying to stir herself back to reality, looking around Dagobah to tell herself that she was safe and sound, here on this world. Luke ran over towards her, his eyes anxious. “Mara!” he said. “Are you okay?” And Vader and Terminus were there as well. Yoda merely sat on a log, watching Mara, with no discernible change in his expression.  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “I had a vision,” she said.  
  
“Of what?” Padme said.  
  
“Bespin, it looked like,” Mara said. “I think Sabe and the others are in trouble.”  
  
“What?” Luke said. “What do you mean?”  
  
Mara rubbed her forehead. “I think Ventress is luring them into a trap,” she said. “I have to go and get them.”  
  
She got up. Padme reached out towards her. “Mara,” she said, “You don’t know – ’’  
  
“Of course I do!” At Padme’s hurt expression, Mara took a deep breath. “Padme,” she said, softer now, “I saw them. I know what I saw. It wasn’t some dream or anything like that; I know it wasn’t. I saw them. I saw them there. And if they’re in trouble, I have to go and get them.”  
  
“It could be a trick,” Padme said.  
  
“Maybe,” Mara said. “But what do I do if I don’t rescue them?”  
  
Silence.  
  
Padme placed a hand on her shoulder, her face softening. “I want to go and get them as much as you do,” she said. “But I can’t shake the idea that it may be a trap.”  
  
“And we should just sit there and wait for them to be trapped?” Mara said. “What is wrong with you, Padme? You’re usually the one who wants to go and help people – ’’  
  
“You won’t do anything by getting us killed!” Padme snapped.  
  
Silence. Just about everyone stared at the both of them, Yoda impassive but clearly disapproving, Luke worried, Terminus impassive but clearly worried, Vader anxious. Artoo  _dwooo_ ed softly.  
  
Padme took a deep breath. “Mara,” she said, “I want to help them as much as you do, but…you’re not ready. You’re still very new at this.”  
  
“The cave,” Master Yoda finally said. “Remember your failure in the cave.”  
  
“I know.” Even remembering it was enough to quell the fiery, anxious need to go and find Han and the others, just a bit. “It’s just…I can’t leave them to Ventress and the others. I just can’t.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Terminus moved towards her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mara,” he said, “You must be careful. I don’t want you to fall prey to the Emperor like…” His voice became softer. “Like I did.”  
  
“I know,” Mara said. “But I won’t.”  
  
Terminus became more contemplative. Mara could sense it, the struggle inside her father’s mind, and the helpless kind of anguish he had in terms of seeing her mother in pain, even in a vision, and whether or not to go.  _No, I can’t fail my wife again. Or my daughter._  
Mara turned to look at him. “You aren’t going to fail either of us,” she said. “We’re going to Bespin, and we’re going to save them, Father. I promise.”  
  
“I can only hope,” Terminus said. “I have no desire to see my daughter fall prey to the Emperor. But I cannot abandon my wife. Or my friends.”  
  
“Stopped, the Empire must be,” Yoda said. “On this, all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight, with the Force as her ally, will conquer Ventress and the Emperor. If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path as others before you, you will become an agent of evil.” His voice became grim, almost, Mara thought, as if he had seen too many instances of students falling to the Dark Side. Mara had heard plenty of stories about that. Her father, obviously, but also those such as Master Dooku, Sora Bulq, Depa Billaba, and many, many others. Too many to count. How many times had this story been repeated through the history of the Order, the only things changed being the names and motives and the setting?  
  
“I know,” Mara said. “I am going to come back, Master Yoda, I promise. But I can’t leave them to torture and death. There’s a lot of things I can do, but this isn’t one of them.”  
  
Master Yoda merely nodded. It looked, Mara thought, as if he had heard something all too familiar before. With her father? With another Jedi? She couldn’t say.  
  
“Honor, do you, what they fight for?” Yoda said.  
  
“I do,” Mara said. “But there’s a difference between honoring what they fight for and just leaving them there. And I can’t do that.”  
  
Silence. Master Yoda watched impassively. Then, “As I feared, it is.”  
  
Vader stepped to her side. “Master Yoda,” he said, “Han and the others are being tortured. If Mara’s vision is right, if we don’t stop Ventress and rescue them, the Rebellion will most likely fall. I, too, had a premonition of the Rebellion falling. If you stepped outside Dagobah, you would have seen what it was. What the Empire is doing. So many cities in flames. I’ve razed many cities for the Emperor,” he said, “But if we can save a city, if we can save Bespin from Ventress, perhaps it can be a step in the right direction. We’ve seen too many cities in flames. We’ve seen too many people dead. We fled to Dagobah in the first place because the Empire destroyed the base on Hoth, killed too many innocents. And Han and the others most likely fled there because they had no choice. We have to stop Ventress, and save Han and the others, or she and the Emperor will bring more suffering to the galaxy.” A pause. “You’re a part of this galaxy, Master Yoda. Why not do something to defend it? Why not let us do something to defend it?”  
  
Mara turned towards Vader. On the one hand, she almost wanted to tell him to stop (being hostile once more to Master Yoda was not going to help anything), but on the other hand, she couldn’t help but be drawn in by the sheer passion in his voice. This was a man who wanted, more than anything, to mend things. To fix the mistakes he’d made. He and Terminus and Padme, all of them, wanted nothing more than to make things right again.  
  
Terminus stood next to Vader. “I agree,” he said. “We have razed too many cities in the Emperor’s name in the past. In fact, I believe we have destroyed too many cities for the sake of the Clone Wars, done too much harm. When I tried to not do harm, it no doubt brought more destruction than I ever wanted. If we can save Bespin, if we can keep Ventress from claiming another city and leaving innocent civilians refugees, from claiming my wife as a prisoner, from torturing those who have become friends to me, then I will say I will have taken a major step in proving myself to the Rebellion.” He watched Master Yoda. “I have done a lot of wrong in my lifetime, Master. I’ve done right, yes, but mostly a lot of wrong. And as Darth Terminus, I have done too much wrong. If I can atone for it, it will make all the difference.”  
  
And for a moment, Mara could swear that she heard Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man her father had been, behind that mask. A man, a good man, tortured by regrets, a good man who had done wrong out of good intentions, but was more than willing to make things right again.  _You will redeem yourself, Father,_ she thought.  _You’ve already started on that path._  
  
Padme walked towards Terminus. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said, “But these are my friends, Master Yoda. I fear for the future, and where it may lead. I don’t know if Ventress is manipulating us; she and the Emperor have become good at manipulating visions so we can see what they want to see. To invite us into taking the bait. But,” she said, smiling, “Traps can also work in our favor. Turning the trap back on them. And,” she said, turning to Vader and Terminus with unchecked affection in her eyes, “The both of them are right.” She became more serious, turning back to Master Yoda. “I’ve killed too many times in the name of the Republic, Master Yoda. But if we can save a city, and our friends, it’s worth everything.”  
  
“I’m with you too.” Luke, this time, walking towards them. “I’ve heard about what the Empire does to its prisoners. And I know what they do to cities thought to harbor Rebels, or Rebel sympathizers.” He became more serious. “If we don’t save Han and the others, they’ll execute them,” he said. “And they’ll burn Bespin down. I know this. Look what they did to Alderaan, look what they did to Yavin and Hoth. We can’t let that happen to Bespin.”  
  
Silence. Yoda seemed thoughtful. Then, “If face Ventress you do,” he said, “Interfere, I cannot.”  
  
In truth, Mara wished that they had Yoda to back them up. They could use his help. After all, Yoda was powerful, perhaps one of the most powerful Jedi out there, and they could use him in a fight. Maybe Yoda had his reasons, but nonetheless, Mara couldn’t help but feel almost angry.  
  
 _No. He has his reasons. Maybe not reasons I agree with, but he has them nonetheless._  
  
Mara nodded. “I know,” she said. “I am going to come back, Master Yoda. I promise.”  
  
“Strong is Ventress,” Yoda said, “Mind what you have learned. Save you it can.”  
  
Mara grinned. “I will,” she said. “I promise.”  
  
They got inside their transports and blasted off from Dagobah. Mara couldn’t say if they were right, or if Yoda was right, if their decisions would inevitably lead to disaster. But nonetheless, wherever the future would lead them, Mara knew that she would be prepared for it, whatever it took.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Cloud City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Han and the rest of his unlucky crew arrive at Cloud City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was pretty fun to write. The matter of the landing stuff was a bit difficult (mostly in terms of figuring out jargon because, I admit it, I kind of suck at jargon). But introducing Lando into the equation and having a rare moment of peace for Han and co. before things go to shit once again...I liked that a lot.

From a distance, first arriving on the planet of Bespin, it was a beautiful planet. Heavy, thick clouds the color of the setting sun, shades of pink and red and orange, that seemed to all but encase the  _Millennium Falcon_  in a series of wispy clouds, appearing almost as if they were surfing through a whole array of clouds. Ahead of them was the gleaming, almost ivory-looking city that was called Cloud City, if only for how it seemed to float upon the clouds. Under better circumstances, it would have been a beautiful, peaceful journey to Cloud City, where they could stay for the night, get repairs, and perhaps have some refreshments and chat with the residents as well as some of the administrators before taking off to the rendez-vous point again.  
  
Unfortunately, the journey to Cloud City, of course, didn’t seem to go as smoothly as they planned, as they were currently being shot at by hostile cloud cars. Which was enough to keep Han already on edge. He knew already that Lando would probably not be glad to see him – and that was an understatement – but sending cloud cars to shoot at him was more than slightly overkill. What had he done wrong? Well, besides the whole stealing the  _Falcon_  from him in a sabaac game, and that whole incident with Bria Tharen and not being able to pay Lando off enough. But that was no reason for a bunch of cloud cars to be shooting at them.  
  
Long ago, Han had scoffed at the idea of a mystical energy shield controlling his destiny. Now, however, though he still didn’t believe in that stuff – and thought that Mara’s belief in the Force was ridiculous, to say the least, and a bit confusing – there wasn’t any doubt that if there were any gods of bad luck, they seemed to have turned their wrath upon Han Solo and the crew of the  _Millennium Falcon_  for…well, whatever reason. Between the failed hyperdrive, the space slug, and now this, Han wondered if there was some god of bad luck out there – just for a moment – that apparently got bored and decided to put them through all this.  
  
 _No, don’t give up just yet, Han. You can talk with Lando soon. You can probably just talk with the cloud cars and ask them if they can stop shooting at you. Try to get to Lando, at least._  
  
“No,” Han said, once again into the comm system, “I don’t have a landing permit. I’m trying to reach Lando Calrissian.”  
  
More flak exploded outside the window of the  _Falcon_ ’s cockpit, rattling the  _Falcon_  once again. Goldenrod exclaimed in fear, while Chewie barked in alarm. Han sighed. “Let me explain – ’’ he began.  
  
The voice inside the cloud car was remarkably calm for someone who was shooting at Han. “You will not deviate from your present course.”  
  
“Rather touchy, aren’t they?” Goldenrod said in the back.  
  
 _Looks like that makes two of us, Goldenrod._ At this point, so much weird stuff had happened for the past few days – including Han agreeing with Goldenrod, something he thought he would never do – that if he saw flying banthas outside the cockpit window, he would barely bat an eyelash.  
  
Leia’s voice was tense. “I thought you knew this person,” she said.  
  
“I do,” Han said. “Don’t worry; we go a long way back, Lando and me.” Although, he thought, it was probably trying to reassure himself as well.  _Don’t worry, Han. Lando was pretty ticked about the whole credits thing, but he wouldn’t be angry enough to sic cloud cars on you. He’s probably mellowed out over the years._  
  
Or not.  
  
Whatever it was, Han would find a way to handle it. Perhaps do some smooth-talking – it had usually managed to get him out of trouble. Well, usually. Except with, say, Greedo – and find a way to wheedle Lando into fixing his old ship’s hyperdrive.  _Look, Lando, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms last time, but can you at least help an old buddy out in fixing the hyperdrive of your old ship? Yeah, I’m sorry I got it broke; I don’t know what happened. Can you at least give me a hand? We’ll be off Bespin as soon as we can…_  
  
“Who’s worried?” Leia said softly.  
  
After a long while, the voice over the comm spoke. “Permission granted to land on platform 327.”  
  
Han sighed in relief. At least that was one thing over with; the cloud cars weren’t shooting at them anymore. “ _Thank_ you,” he said.  
  
Chewie turned to look at him, growled anxiously.  
  
“Yeah, I know, buddy,” Han said, “But I’m sure Lando’s probably mellowed out a bit.”  
  
A skeptical growl.  
  
Han shrugged. “I said ‘probably’.”  
  
The  _Falcon_  glided in closer towards Cloud City, and for a moment the crew’s anxieties seemed to be forgotten, staring in awe at the sweeping, almost ivory city, floating amongst the clouds that were tinted with the faint traces of sunset. Even the city itself seemed almost tiny amongst the clouds, which seemed to go on forever.  
  
“Han?” Ada said, almost in awe. “That’s…”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Han said. “Let’s hope the locals are feeling friendly.”  _And that Lando is as well._  
  
The  _Falcon_  glided smoothly towards landing platform two-three-seven, and the crew disembarked. Leia seemed tense, hand on her blaster almost as if to be sure, and Han couldn’t say that he blamed her, after the way that they had been shot at earlier. Chewie held his bowcaster, and Ada and Sabe had their blasters in hand as well. So did Ben. And Han, hand on his blaster, couldn’t help but worry, though he tried to keep his usual calm, cool demeanor that people usually associated with Han Solo.  _How’s Lando going to react to me coming back? How’s he going to react to the fact we have Imperial prisoners onboard? Yeah, I don’t think we ever really took care of them, did we? Stang, I hope that’s not going to come back to bite us later._  
  
Except on the landing platform, it didn’t look like anyone was coming out to meet them. Leia shook her head. “I don’t like this,” she said.  
  
“Well,” Han said, a spike of irritation flaring for a moment, “What would you like?”  
  
“Well, they did let us land,” Goldenrod said.  
  
Han snorted. “Not before trying to fry us first.”  
  
“They were mostly following protocol,” Goldenrod said.  
  
Han shook his head. “Bespin protocols can be strict, but I don’t think they’ve ever shot at me when I’ve tried to land.” _Well, last time I’ve tried to land there on Cloud City, I hadn’t just shortchanged Lando_.  
  
“Well, they are probably on edge,” Goldenrod said. “I doubt that they actually see you as an enemy, Captain Solo.”  
  
Han snorted. “If they don’t, it’s one hell of a way to greet us – ’’  
  
He was cut off by Lando Calrissian himself exiting onto the landing platform. A handsome, suave, dark-skinned man, Lando seemed a bit older than when Han had last seen him – when Han had last seen him, he’d still probably been in his twenties. Now Lando was in his thirties, and more than that, there was a sort of respectability that Han couldn’t say that he associated with the man who had gotten in trouble with him more times than either one of them could count. He wore a long, dark blue cloak with a gold underlay, something that almost made him seem, Han thought, like a prince of a kingdom. Next to him was a bald man with some sort of machinery attached to both sides of his head, and behind him, Bespin workers in uniform. Lando, Han thought, had definitely changed a lot since they’d last met.  
  
“Why you slimy, double-crossing, no good swindler!” Lando headed towards Han, fire in his eyes, though Han could sense, somewhat, that it wasn’t entirely serious. “You’ve got a lot of guts coming here, after what you pulled.”  
  
Han pointed to himself, mouthing, “Me?” Lando moved towards him, and for a moment, Han wondered if Lando was about to punch him for daring to set foot on Bespin again, but to his relief, Lando threw his arms around him, laughing. “How you doing, you old pirate? So good to see you!”  
  
And that, Han thought, was one hell of a huge weight off his shoulders. Behind him, he heard Sabe chuckle faintly, and Goldenrod say, “Well, he seems very friendly”, to which Leia replied with a tense, wary, “Yes, very friendly.”  
  
Lando eventually pulled away from Han. “Never thought I’d catch up with you again. Where’ve you been?”  
  
“Oh, you know.” Han shrugged. “I’ve been busy and all. We’ve had one hell of a day.”  
  
“Yeah. Sorry about the cloud cars,” Lando said. “We’ve been a bit on edge lately.” He seemed to go slightly more serious. “We’ve kind of been hearing rumors about the Empire heading here, so…well, we can’t be too careful.”  
  
“Heading here?”  _Great._  
  
“Well, they’re mostly rumors,” Lando said. “ ‘Sides, they’re not setting foot on Bespin if I have anything to say about it.”  
  
“They aren’t,” Han said. “So, Lando…I actually need a bit of help.”  
  
“What have you done to my ship?” Lando’s voice, however, held more of a note of mock-panic.  
  
“ _Your_ ship?” Han said. “Hey, you lost her to me fair and square, buddy.” He grew more serious. “But yeah, the hyperdrive’s been busted to hell. We have no idea what happened, but I thought that you could take a look at it.”  
  
“No problem at all.” Lando then turned to notice Chewbacca. “How are you doing, Chewbacca?” he said, grinning. “Still hanging out with this loser?”  
  
Chewie seemed to chuckle a Wookiee chuckle, though he was still clearly wary and on edge. Lando then turned to look at Leia. “And who might you be?” he said, smiling.  
  
“Leia,” Leia said.  
  
“Welcome, Leia.” As he spoke, Lando lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it. Ada, behind her, seemed to smirk.  
  
“All right, all right,” Han said, grinning. “You old smoothie.” He turned to gesture towards the others. “This is Ada,” he gestured towards Ada, who was clearly grinning, though tired, “Sabe,” he gestured towards Sabe, “Ben,” he gestured towards Ben, “And Goldenrod.” He gestured towards Goldenrod.  
  
“Nice to know all of you,” Lando said, smiling. He turned towards Sabe. “You’re Sabe? The Queen of Naboo, who led her people against the Trade Federation?”  
  
Sabe nodded. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Calrissian,” she said. “And thank you for accepting us. We’re…we’re quite tired, actually.”  
  
“I bet,” Lando said. “How about I take you to your quarters and my men can fix up the ship?”  
  
“That would be wonderful,” Sabe said. “There’s actually something else I want to ask. We have Imperial stormtroopers on the ship. They’re…wounded, one could say. Can you help them?”  
  
Lando furrowed his brow, seeming almost skeptical. Then, “We’ll do what we can, Your Majesty.”  
  
“Sabe,” Sabe said. “Call me Sabe. I’m not quite a Queen anymore.”  
  
“Right,” Lando said. “Sabe.” He smiled, more warmly now. “Don’t worry. The repairmen are going to take care of everything.” He turned towards Ada. “And you’re Ada, aren’t you?”  
  
“I am,” Ada said. “This is a beautiful city, Mr. Calrissian. You’re very fortunate.”  
  
Lando grinned. “It is. And I don’t think you’ve seen all of it yet. I think all of you are going to be happy as Hutts rolling in credits here.”  
  
“Assuming Hutts are ever truly happy,” Ada said, wryly.  
  
Lando chuckled. “Come on. I’ll show you to your quarters.”  
  
They headed off, and Han managed to catch up with Lando on a lot of things, including the matter of business operations (and Han couldn’t help but laugh; if one was to tell him that Lando Calrissian was going to become a responsible businessman, one would assume that that person had too much to drink) and he managed to tell Lando about their trip from hell, including the matter of the busted hyperdrive, the space slug (at which Lando burst into hysterical laughter. “You parked in the belly of a space slug and didn’t even realize it? Stang, Han…”), the mynocks, and a lot more. And though Han had a feeling he should be more wary, in spite of himself, he couldn’t help but feel relaxed. All things considered, he’d had a rough journey, but it looked like the most of their troubles were behind him.  
  
They headed to their quarters, not noticing Goldenrod wandering off – Han was already tired, and more than that, wanted a quick dinner and then to head off to bed – and not noticing the firefight that Goldenrod had gotten into. If Han had been paying more attention, he would have noticed, but they were all tired, and mostly needed to get some rest.  
  
They got to their rooms, Chewie collapsing for the night, snoring his Wookiee snores – Chewie could have an awfully loud engine going when he fell asleep – Ada getting dressed for the night, as did Sabe (Han noticed the look of faint worry on Sabe’s face, and some loneliness in her eyes, and knew that she missed Mara and Terminus. Han couldn’t say that he was married or had a kid, but he could sympathize. He did miss Mara, Kitster, Terminus, Padme and Luke as well), and Leia, who seemed to be almost radiant in the fading light of Cloud City, a faint nightly glow to her pale skin and her dark hair. Han watched, almost struck by her beauty, which was only emphasized in the moon shining through the window. In a simple white nightgown, she appeared almost ethereal in nature. He swallowed, taken aback in spite of himself.  
  
Leia smiled. “What is it?”  
  
“Nothing,” Han said. “You look…well, you look great.” And that, he thought, was an understatement.  
  
Leia chuckled. “Han,” she said, “You’re really not as good a bluffer as you think you are.”  
  
Han grinned. “You got me.” He sighed. “Tired?”  
  
“Yeah,” Leia said. She furrowed her brow. “Aren’t you going to change?”  
  
“No need,” Han said. In truth, he couldn’t imagine going without his old coat and shirt. It was almost as if it was part of him, one of his constant companions besides the  _Millennium Falcon_ , Chewie, and, of course, the constant threat of one bit of trouble or another. It was one of those things that made up Han Solo.  _Love it or leave it, sweetheart._  
  
Leia chuckled softly. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get to bed.”  
  
They slipped into bed together like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy, and drew close to one another, Leia’s body seeming soft and warm next to his. She snuggled into the crook of his shoulder, and he faintly heard her murmur, “Can we trust him?”  
He was startled momentarily out of smoothly going into sleep. “Who?”  
  
“Lando.” A faint yawn. “Y’know, with…just about everything.”  
  
Normally, Han would have snapped back, but there was something about the comfort of their room, the bed, and the fact that this seemed to be, at least for the moment, the end of a long, nerve-wracking trip, that was enough to lull him into a slightly mellower mood. Han shrugged. “He’s never let me down before.”  
  
“I suppose.” Leia lay against him. “It’s been a long trip, Han.”  
  
“Yeah,” Han said. He smiled. “Still, it’s over.”  
  
“Almost,” Leia said, a slight smile tugging at her mouth, sleepy as she clearly was. “We still need to get back to the Rebellion, remember?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Han said. He chuckled. “Imagine how they’re going to react when we tell them all of that.”  
  
Leia chuckled. “They’d barely believe it.”  
  
“Yeah. Still,” and Han found himself yawning as well, “Hell of a story it’s going to make.”  
  
Leia laughed and she nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. They slept there, drifting off smoothly into sleep, forgetting their troubles just for a moment, oblivious to the storm still to come. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Ventress Catches Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit really hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I have to say writing Lando's POV was my favorite thing about writing this chapter. Lando's one of my personal favorites, and getting into his head when he ultimately ends up betraying Han...I think it's the best bit of writing I've done for this.

  
Looking back on things, Han could say that the trouble really began when Chewie brought the severed head of Goldenrod back to their quarters like some sort of strange portent of doom – although Han didn’t know it at the time. He was already talking with Leia about the matter of the ship being fixed up (according to Lando, there were only three more things that needed to get done and then they were as good as gone). Leia retorted that the sooner they got out of there the better, as no one had known what happened to Goldenrod for a long while now.  
  
Han gently kissed her head, looked at her for a moment, taking in her beauty. Leia was already incredibly beautiful, but there was something about that rose-colored dress that was enough to bring out her soft-featured face, her rich brown eyes, her dark brown hair and pale skin. She really did remind Han of a princess right then and there – he doubted that things such as Leia’s ordinary working clothes or those old Alderaanian dresses would do her beauty justice. Here, it seemed as if she was fully in her element. Lando had remarked that she truly belonged with them, here among the clouds, and despite the fact it was a blatantly obvious come-on to Leia (and Han had to remind him that she was currently taken, to which Lando backed off, though not without a playful question to Han as to how a smuggler like him got together with a princess in the first place), it was the truth. Despite her current emotional upset, Leia really did fit in very well with the people of Bespin wearing that dress, in its different, soft shades of rose.  
  
“Relax,” he said, softly. “I’ll talk to Lando; he’ll figure it out. He’ll fix up the ship and then we’ll be gone.”  
  
She still didn’t seem happy. She looked at him, and he could see that underneath the frustration and worry, she was clearly not looking forward to the idea of him leaving. “Then you’re as good as gone, aren’t you?”  
  
Of course he’d have to leave. If he didn’t pay off his debt to Jabba the Hutt, it was more than likely that he was a dead man. Jabba wasn’t exactly known for being lenient – Han remembered one trip he’d taken to Jabba’s palace where Jabba had thrown one of his dancers to the rancor beast for displeasing him. It was enough to make him realize that whether you were bounty hunter, dancer, or anyone else, Jabba the Hutt was not going to let you off the hook if you failed him. And Han wasn’t exactly looking forward to the consequences of coming back only to tell Jabba, “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t get that sum you asked for, but give me another chance, okay?” Jabba would be furious.  
  
That and smugglers like him didn’t typically stay in one place for too long. The fact he had stayed three years so far with the Rebellion was remarkable in and of itself. It was Mara’s fault. And Chewie’s. And Leia’s. Actually, it was everyone’s fault, including his for being a damn sap enough to stay for that long.  
  
Han sighed. “I dunno,” he said. “Let’s just…let’s not worry about that just now, sweetheart.” A quick grin. “One worry at a time.”  
  
She chuckled. “Someone has to do the worrying enough for the both of us.”  
  
They leaned in for a kiss, only to be jarred out of their moment by Chewie’s roar, which sounded almost like a wail. Han broke away, stood up and turned towards Chewie. “What is it?” he said. And then he looked at what Chewie was carrying, really looked at it. It was Goldenrod – at least, pieces of him. “What the hell happened?”  
  
Chewie barked.  
  
“You found him in a junkpile?” Leia said. “What was he doing there?”  
  
Chewie barked again, clearly seeming just as lost as the both of them. By now, Ada and Sabe were coming out of their rooms, clearly sleep fogged and still not quite in it. Ben too, and if not for the situation in question, Han would have found him being still in his pajamas quite funny. Apparently, Chewie said, he had gone looking for Threepio, only to find Ugnaughts carting away his parts, and he had all but scared them into giving up the parts. Han frowned; who would want to take apart Goldenrod? Maybe Goldenrod had gotten into some sort of accident…he’d have to have a word with Lando about this. Just to see what was going on.  
  
In fact, there were a lot of things that didn’t quite add up. The matter of the cloud cars was one of them. Lando talking about how the Empire was apparently headed to Bespin according to rumors – did it mean that the Empire was on their tail even as they spoke?  _But we were supposed to have thrown them off after the asteroid field…_  
  
Of course not. The Empire was never going to stop until they were dead. Or captured. Though dead was probably the one most likely.  
  
It was then that Lando entered. “I’m sorry,” he said, “Am I interrupting anything?”  
  
“No, not really,” Ben said, but Han had a feeling he was being polite. “How are the repairs on the ship?”  
  
“They’re going good,” Lando said. “According to my men, they just need to fix up some of the stuff the mynocks got, and some smaller things, but soon the old girl’s going to be good to go.” He said “the old girl” with a heavy note of affection in his voice. Though the  _Falcon_  was not Lando’s ship anymore, it was clear Lando still held the ship in high esteem. Lando then shook his head. “Honestly, Han, you were right. Those damn pests got the power cables pretty good. Fortunately, we managed to fix the damage they did.”  
  
Han grinned. “Thanks, Lando.”  
  
Lando shrugged. “Hey, no problem. So I was wondering, while they fix everything up…you want to have some refreshment?”  
  
Han cocked his head; there was something in Lando’s voice that seemed almost like a gizka in a minefield. Chewie, however, seemed to be more than ready. Sabe nodded. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “Some of us might need to get dressed, but…”  
  
“No problem.” Lando then turned to look at the dismantled Goldenrod. “Having trouble with your droid?”  
  
“A bit,” Han said. “Don’t know what happened to him, but he looks like hell.”  
  
Lando looked nervous again, but that passed as quickly as it came. “Do you need – ’’  
  
“We can probably hold off a bit,” Han said.  
  
Minutes later, Ben was dressed in more presentable clothes, though more casual than anything else, and looking at him, Han almost thought he looked a bit like how he was when they first met, when Ben was only nineteen years old. Ben was twenty two now, but there were times when Han was reminded of a kid, and this was one of them. Sabe too, was dressed in a fancy dress, almost floaty in nature, and blue, and Ada was dressed in a long purple dress that made her look, Han thought, almost like a princess herself. They headed out, all the while engaged in conversation, though Han had a sudden feeling – the good old “bad feeling about this” – that things weren’t quite what they seemed to be.  
  
But that couldn’t be the case. Lando wouldn’t sell them out to the Empire, would he? That was ludicrous. Right?  
  
***  
  
If one was to tell Lando the complete truth, he had been nervous ever since he had shown up at Han’s door asking about the idea of a “refreshment”. Ventress had been all too clear that if he didn’t deliver Han and the others into her hands, the citizens of Bespin would suffer severe consequences. Lando had seen enough of what Ventress had done on the Holonews to know that she wasn’t bluffing. Woman was honestly enough to grate on his nerves – pompous, pontificating, seeming to love the sound of her own voice – but she wasn’t one to bluff, he would grant her that. And though Lando detested the Empire heavily (he was hard-pressed to really say who didn’t, actually), the safety of his citizens took heavy priority over even that.  
  
The thing about taking care of Bespin was the fact that you were also in charge of its citizens, taking care of them, making sure that things were all right. And as a leader, Lando felt the familiar affection that leaders felt for their people, and the willingness to do whatever they could in order to protect them, no matter how horrific it truly was.  
  
He didn’t want to betray Han. He had a feeling this was going to haunt him to his grave. But at the same time, he would be damned if he let Ventress hurt innocent people. He couldn’t openly go against her; she would shut down the mining operation, and he would be damned if he let that happen either. Fortunately, in Lando’s experience, there was always a third option.  
  
The bad news was that it meant betraying Lando’s long-time friend. In truth, he had been angry when Han had effectively cheated him, but he didn’t hate him anymore for it. Time had passed. Lando had managed to forgive him. But he couldn’t simply let his people fall victim to Ventress.  
  
So he continued down the hallway, casually answering questions from Ada and Han and Leia and the others – who he had grown to have some affection for as well. They were good people, genuinely good people, and they deserved better than what was going to happen to them – all the while trying to keep his sabaac face.  _Don’t let Han see you nervous. Don’t let him see that on the inside, you’re more nervous than a Hutt threatened to be cheated out of credits. Or anything like that._ Lando couldn’t say he could come up with a good simile at the moment.  
  
There was the door to the dining room, where they would have the refreshments. And Ventress was behind that door. Han was still talking. “Aren’t you afraid the Empire’s going to find out about this little operation and shut you down?”  
  
 _Han, old buddy, you have no idea._ “Yeah,” Lando said, “But don’t worry. I’ve found a solution that will keep the Empire out forever.”  
  
 _Door number one, opening. Let’s just get this over and done with._  
  
Behind the door was Ventress herself, not a terribly tall woman but she made up for it with those dark eyes that seemed to burn with hatred – and at the moment, a grim sort of satisfaction. Next to her was Boba Fett, unreadable as always behind that visor he wore – one of those things that Lando heavily disliked. He had no love for bounty hunters (he doubted many did, nowadays. Greedy, always looking out for number one, cheap, worthless mercenary scum, even Hutts had more redeeming qualities than them), and the fact that he was sort of collaborating with one – as well as one of the Emperor’s most notorious enforcers; though not as notorious as, say, Terminus or Vader, Ventress was still pretty stanging notorious in her own right – was one of those things that was distasteful. And that was an understatement.  
  
Han fired at Ventress. Of course Ventress didn’t care; she was a Force user. Blaster bolts probably wouldn’t make her bat an eyelash. She snatched Han’s blaster out of his hand with the Force, all the while completely calm, and pocketed it. Sabe and Ada tried next, but again, Ventress managed to catch their blasters. You might as well have tried to sic mynocks on a rancor; those blasters were no more than just petty annoyances. And even as Ventress turned towards Lando, smiled, Lando felt guilt stir his insides almost like batter, making him almost nauseous. But of course, he didn’t show it in front of Han. Instead, he turned towards Han, who looked at him with a sort of blistering hatred that would have scared the late Grand Moff Tarkin.  
  
Lando sighed. “I had no choice, Han. She got there just before you did.” The cloud cars thing had been a lie too; Ventress wanted to keep an eye on Han and the others, and had all but bullied those in charge of Cloud City into acquiescing to her demands. Nobody wanted to upset someone like Ventress. “I’m sorry,” Lando said, and he knew that even that was hardly going to cover it.  
  
“Yeah,” Han said, and by that time, the stormtroopers were showing up, cuffing the others, including Chewie, who attempted to fight back – bless him. Lando still couldn’t help but respect Chewie’s guts, even though fighting against the stormtroopers right now was probably doomed to failure – before being cuffed. “So am I, pal.” And in his voice, Lando didn’t just sense a sort of hatred from Han, but disappointment, as if Lando had somehow let not just Han down, but himself.  
  
 _You’d never collaborate with the Empire,_ Han seemed to say without saying it.  _What the hell are you doing collaborating with them? What did they promise you, pal?_  
  
But they didn’t promise anything. They had threatened Lando until Lando had finally complied.  _“Do you remember what we did to Yavin, Calrissian?”_ Ventress had said to him in her slithering, heavily accented voice. And Lando knew that he would be damned if he let what happened to Yavin – the Empire hadn’t just set the base on fire. They’d all but set the whole planet on fire – happen to Bespin. The whole city, this beautiful city he loved, destroyed thanks to his own foolishness…he couldn’t let that happen.  
  
Ventress smiled, and it was the sort of smile that Lando couldn’t have found more unpleasant if a dianoga had decided to rub up against his leg. “Well done, Calrissian,” she said. “You didn’t disappoint me.”  
  
But as Lando watched the stormtroopers take Han and the others away, watching the sudden look of fear in Ada’s face that disappeared as quickly as it came (but burned itself into his mind nonetheless), and the looks of betrayal and shock and even despair on the faces of the others (and he had done this, he had done this, all for the price of keeping Bespin safe, and how did he know that Ventress wouldn’t destroy Bespin anyway?), Lando wished that he had disappointed her.  
  
Yeah, he thought, he definitely wished he’d disappointed her. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Han and his hapless crew have to make a crucial decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Warning for torture -- mostly mentions, but it's there nonetheless. Best to avoid it if it upsets you.

  
To hear your friends in pain, almost feeling powerless to help, that was one thing, and that was bad enough. But to hear your friends, as well as people you had grown pretty fond of over the past few days or so, screaming in pain because you had done this, you had lured them into a situation like this, you were the one who handed them over to the psychopath currently doing this, that was something else entirely. And so Lando Calrissian, administrator of Cloud City and, in Han’s eyes, a traitor – and for good reason, Lando thought – stood outside the door, quietly shaking with rage, and more than that, guilt for being a coward. He could have stood up to Ventress, he could have said something, he could have found a way to kick her off Bespin in the first place, but he hadn’t.  
  
 _And what could you have done?_ a part of him said.  _Challenge her to a game of sabaac? This isn’t like the other times, Calrissian. This is a Force user. Someone who is going to harm the citizens you swore to protect. You swore to protect them as much as anyone when you took over Cloud City. To protect the mining operation. It’s not like there’s anything you can do now._  
  
But he could do something. He could do so much. Even hearing Han’s screams of pain – to even hear those sounds come out of Han, the sorts of sounds that you wouldn’t expect to come out of the usually laid-back smuggler, the usually cocky smuggler – as well as Chewie’s howls, as well as Ada, Sabe, Ben and Leia screaming in pain, it was hard to take. Lando tried to keep his face neutral, to keep his face calm, but he couldn’t keep his fists from clenching in rage. To charge in there, probably beat the crap out of the stormtroopers who were doing this, or some of the strange people that Ventress had brought in, dressed in black…  
  
Then the screams stopped for the moment. Lando could swear that he heard Ada sobbing frantically, trying to regain her breath, and Ben murmuring to her, trying to comfort her. Ada was a survivor of Alderaan, Lando had heard, one of those on the doomed  _Tantive IV_  captured by the Empire and tortured. She was tough, but there were some situations that she couldn’t repeat.  
  
“I’ll kill them, Ben,” she said, from the chamber; it was muffled but it was there nonetheless. “What they did to us, what they did to Sabe and all of us…”  
  
 _Yeah._ Lando sighed, backed further against the wall, further hating himself for his inability to do anything, to go in there like the old days and save the day, for fear of what Ventress would do to the city, or to Han and the others – retaliating further.  _I’ll kill them too. Later._ And Lando was already hoping that their deaths would be slow and painful.  
  
The door opened, and Ventress exited, calm as always, Boba Fett at her back, as well as one of those strange people in cloaks that was enough to give Lando the creeps looking at them, the blank, emotionless stare that seemed almost as cold as a dead star. Ventress turned to look at Fett. “You may take Captain Solo to Jabba the Hutt once I have the Kenobi girl and her friends.”  
  
 _Kenobi._ The name rang a bell. And then Lando remembered. That was the girl who had blown up the Death Star three years ago. Ventress must have held a grudge against her for destroying the Empire’s most powerful weapon – well, one of them, but the Death Star was enough to instill fear into the citizens of the galaxy no matter if you were on the side of the Rebels, the Empire, or were completely neutral. Anyone could be next. Even you. And Lando had hoped, every day, that the Death Star wouldn’t reach Bespin. But the Kenobi girl had somehow blown it up. Lando had rejoiced at the time, as had just about everyone else, but even that seemed hollow now. After all, fate was saving Bespin for Ventress herself, wasn’t it? – and now wanted to no doubt kill her. Or take her to the Emperor. Lando had heard horror stories about how the Emperor had killed or converted Jedi to his cause.  _Like Revan’s Sith in the older days,_ some had whispered, and though Lando couldn’t say he was too familiar with that era, he knew that the Emperor was a sadistic man, and that was one of many reasons that he had no desire for Bespin to fall into the Emperor’s hands.  
  
And now, no doubt to lure Mara Kenobi into their grasp, Ventress decided to use Han and the others as bait.  
  
Lando felt almost sick watching Ventress, though, again, he tried to hide it. He wasn’t going to let this woman see him in a moment of weakness. He wouldn’t let anyone see him like this. He was the administrator of Cloud City. He could not afford to show weakness.  
“He’s no good to me dead,” Fett said in his filtered, almost raspy voice.  
  
“He will not be permanently damaged, I assure you,” Ventress said, and even that was enough to send a chill up Lando’s spine. Ventress’ definition of not being permanently damaged was warped at best, he thought. “He will be all yours in time.”  
  
“He better,” Fett said. “He’s been quite a lot of trouble to Jabba the Hutt, as well as me. Jabba will be quite furious if I don’t get him back.”  
  
“That,” Ventress said, “Is obvious.”  
  
Once Fett left, Lando finally managed to speak to Ventress. “Lady Ventress,” he said, “What of Han’s crew?”  
  
Ventress’ voice was completely calm. “They must remain here,” she said. “The Emperor will deal with them soon enough.” Although there was something in her voice, Lando thought, where it seemed like she had plans other than that.  
  
He took a deep breath. “That was never a condition of our agreement nor was giving Han over to the bounty hunter.”  
  
“Perhaps,” Ventress said, and though her voice was calm, slithery as always, there was still a hint, Lando thought, of growing rage. He almost would have preferred it if Ventress had been snarling at him. “You think you’re being treated unfairly?”  
  
“Well – ’’  
  
“Perhaps you believe we can adjust the deal?” Ventress said.  
  
“No,” Lando said, although deep inside, he wanted to.  _Coward. You kriffing coward – you could at least try and stand up to her. You could at least try and tell her that this is completely wrong._  
  
But you didn’t just tell Ventress that. Not unless you were suicidal, at least.  
  
“Good,” Ventress said. “It would be a pity if I had to do to your wretched city what we did to Yavin.”  
  
Lando’s breath hitched, though he tried to keep himself calm. “There won’t be a need, Lady Ventress,” he said, though he was already imagining towers in flame, innocent civilians running for their lives, Lobot and the others probably being killed…  
  
“That is fortunate,” Ventress said, and she left.  
  
Lando’s breath became shallower, and he took a while to calm himself.  _Easy there, Lando. It’s okay. You’re okay. Just calm down._ But he couldn’t. The idea of Ventress burning down Bespin, destroying it, this beautiful city that over time he had grown to love with a sort of devotion he didn’t know he was capable of…  
  
 _No. I won’t let her. And I won’t let her hurt Han and the others. I just can’t._ Maybe he couldn’t defy her outright. Maybe make some suggestions. Try and persuade her otherwise. But he doubted that Ventress was going to take suggestions from Lando, or anyone.  
He took a deep breath and headed into the prisons. Leia was kneeling over Han, who currently looked like hell. Lando stopped in shock, looking at Han, looking at all of them – Han was pale and clearly tired, dark brown, pocket-like shadows under his eyes, his hair falling limply around his face. He looked older than he really was. Sabe was bleeding heavily from some sort of cut one of the sick sons of schuttas had probably given her. Or Ventress. Ada was badly bruised, and shaking, and Ben himself had an arm around her, clearly trying to keep his calm even though it was obvious he was on the brink of losing it. Chewie was currently working on Threepio, and even he looked as if he had shut down.  
  
Leia looked up at Lando, having the look of utmost loathing on her face, almost as if she had come across something particularly disgusting, like a dianoga, or a mynock, or anything like that (stang, it felt like yesterday that Lando had heard Han’s stories about the space slug and laughed so hard he thought he’d end up crying. It was a few days ago, but somehow, it felt like a month or a year ago). “Lando,” she said, turning towards Han, speaking in a low voice as if there was some sort of secret between them.  
  
Han looked at him, eyes blazing in fury. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
  
Lando took a deep breath. Han and the others weren’t intent on forgiving him, and he couldn’t say he blamed them, but they had to trust him, at least right now. “I need to speak to you about something. All of you.” He took out his comlink, dialed the medical bay. “Lian – we need you down at the prison. Han and the others have been badly injured.”  
  
Lian, a young woman probably around twenty three, said, “Sir, are you certain about – ’’  
  
“To hell with Ventress and her goons,” Lando said. “They’ve been tortured, and they need treatment.”  
  
Silence. “All right, sir,” she said. “I’ll be right over.” A beat. “Ventress has already taken the stormtroopers that Han and the others captured. I don’t want to imagine what might happen to them; the Empire isn’t known for tolerating failure.”  
  
“No, they aren’t.” Despite himself, Lando couldn’t help but almost pity the stormtroopers. Yeah, the men in white could be nasty pieces of work a lot of the time, but he didn’t want to think of what Ventress could possibly do to them. After all, Ventress was…well, she was the opposite of a Jedi. A Sith, it was said, but not quite a Sith. Not like a Sith Lord or something. At least that was how the whispers went. The sorts of whispers that the Empire wouldn’t really like going around. “Lian,” he said, “Can you get down here?”  
  
“I’m on my way, sir. Lian out.”  
  
The transmission ended. Lando turned to look at Sabe, who was bleeding badly, at Ada, who was badly bruised and cut, at Ben, who was sporting a nasty cut across his forehead, at Han, who looked downright tired, at Leia, who looked as if she were on the verge of tears (not that Lando blamed her one bit). “You’re going to be okay,” he said. “Trust me.”  
  
“Why did you do this?” Sabe said.  
  
Lando sighed. “She threatened Bespin if I didn’t comply,” he said. “I’m not…I’m not proud of any of this. But I couldn’t just condemn my city to death.”  
  
Sabe looked at him with the utmost pity. “The burdens of a leader,” she said, and it was the first time, Lando thought, that one of them at least wasn’t shouting at him.  
  
Lando sighed. “One could say that. Don’t worry, Sabe – Lian’s going to patch you up. She’s still a newbie as a medic, but she’s pretty good.”  
  
Lian arrived later. A small, slender young woman with dark hair tied back in a professional bun, and bright blue eyes, she knelt next to Sabe and began to work on some of her worse wounds from where the creeps in the black cloaks had probably cut her pretty badly.  
  
Ada looked at him, clearly confused. “Why are you doing this, Lando?”  
  
“Nobody deserves to be tortured. Nobody.”  
  
“Then why did you turn us over?” Ada said. “Han said you hated the Empire.”  
  
“Ventress got here before any of you did,” Lando said. “She was pretty clear that if I didn’t comply, Bespin would suffer the same fate as Yavin. She’d burn it to the ground.”  
  
“You could have fought her,” Leia said.  
  
Lando snorted. “No offense, Princess,” he said, “But what could I have done? Challenged her to a game of sabaac? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s a Force user. A damned powerful one too.”  
  
“You fought back before,” Leia said. “Han once said – ’’  
  
“Well, if you want to offer a different perspective on being too much of a hero, be my guest,” Lando snapped, and the moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.  
  
“Too much of a hero?” Leia said. “Lando, I don’t know how long you’ve been out of the fold, but we suffered through Alderaan being destroyed, the base burned down, and we haven’t given into the Empire. There’s been too much at stake to do so.”  
  
“You don’t have a whole city of people depending on you.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Maybe we don’t,” Leia said. “You’re still a coward.”  
  
“Leia!” Sabe said, sharply.  
  
“He is! He has all the opportunity to rebel against Ventress and he doesn’t do anything!”  
  
“I’m doing all I can,” Lando said. He took a deep breath; he couldn’t say he had any desire to pick more of a fight with Leia over this. “Ventress has agreed to let you stay with me, except…” He sighed. “Except Han and Sabe. Han’s going to the bounty hunter. Sabe…she’s being turned in.” He turned to Sabe. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Lando,” Sabe said. “I knew this day would come, one way or another. When I would have to face the Emperor. And I have no regrets.” She said it with such calm, with such conviction, that Lando couldn’t help but admire her further. She really was the Queen of Naboo he had heard about in stories. Worthy. Brave. Fundamentally selfless.  
  
“He’ll execute you!” Ada said.  
  
“I know,” Sabe said. “But to protect all of you, I will do what I can. It’s what a leader does.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“So,” Ada said, “What does Ventress want with us?”  
  
“She’s not after you,” Lando said. “She mentioned something about Mara Kenobi. And some…people she’s got with her.” He sighed. “If she wants revenge for Mara destroying the Death Star, this is probably the perfect plan for her.”  
  
Silence. Lian, finishing tending to Sabe’s wounds, now moving onto Ada’s, looked up in confusion and alarm. Sabe looked downright horrified, even close to tears. Ben looked just as horrified. Han looked furious, as did Leia, and Ada had this sudden look of dread on her face, as if she knew where all of this was going.  
  
Han got up. “You fixed us all real good, didn’t you,” he said, practically snarling like an angry nexu, “My  _friend_.”  
  
Han lashed out. Lando couldn’t say what happened next; it seemed like a whole blur of movement as Han attacked him, screaming a creative variety of curses that would have impressed a Corellian dockhand, Lando fending him off, before one of the stormtroopers finally subdued Han, giving him a whack with the butt of their blaster for good measure. Han glared at him, practically burning with hatred.  
  
Lando got up, his nose already bleeding; Han packed one hell of a right hook, he would give him that. Then again, he just about always did. The stormtroopers looked as if they were about to shoot Chewie, who was rising to Han’s defense, as well as Leia, but Lando turned to them. “Stop!” He no doubt sounded muffled through the trickle of blood now flowing from his nose, but he hoped he sounded somewhat authoritative. “There’s no need to shoot. Lower your blasters.”  
  
The stormtroopers did so, reluctantly.  
  
Lando turned to look at Han. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wouldn’t have done any of this if I had any other choice.”  
  
“Yeah,” Han sneered, “You’re a real hero.”  
  
Lando left, nose still bleeding. Minutes later or so, Lian joined him, seeming just as worn down herself; the events of the past few days in general seemed to have worn her down.  
  
“You okay?” she said.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Lian began tending to his broken nose, as well as a black eye that was just beginning to well up from where Han, in the midst of his cursing, had got Lando in the left eye. “Captain Solo packs one hell of a punch, doesn’t he?” she said.  
  
Lando chuckled, though it sounded muffled. “He does, he really does.” Then he faltered. “How are the others?”  
  
“Recovering.” Lian shook her head. “What the stormtroopers did was just disgraceful. Assuming they have any sort of concept of it.”  
  
“They don’t,” Lando said. “They really don’t.”  
  
Han wouldn’t forgive him. This Lando knew. They’d had their share of stupid fights in the past – and come to think of it, that whole thing with Bria was one of them. Lando had had plenty of time to put that behind him, angry as he had been at the time – but this…this wasn’t one of those. This was more serious. This could cost Han his life, or others their lives. And who was to say Ventress wouldn’t set Bespin on fire anyway? Stars, she’d already backed out of their earlier deal that she would let Han and the others go after all this was over.  
  
 _I’m sorry, Han. I don’t know how I’m going to make this right, but I’m going to find a way. Swear to the stars themselves I will…_  
  
***  
  
It was the crack of dawn that they went to the carbon freezing chamber. Han was trying to get some degree of sleep – Ventress and her goons had, amongst other things, tried to deprive him of sleep as well as basic food and water – when the door practically banged open, and Ventress stood in the doorway, smiling a sort of smile that would have looked more flattering, Han thought, on a nexu.  
  
“Come now, Captain,” she said. “We have places to go.”  
  
“Kriff you,” Han snarled. For all he hated Lando, he hated this woman more. A torturer, a murderer, someone who had destroyed Yavin and Hoth in order to try and find them. Someone who had killed plenty of good people in the Rebellion.  
  
Of course, snapping back at her was a big mistake. Because one of her stormtroopers whacked him on the head again with the butt of their blaster – Han had a feeling that this was going to leave quite the lump  when this was all over. And that was probably the least of his problems.  
  
“Come now, Captain,” Ventress said. “Don’t make me have to tell you twice.”  
  
“Fine.” He got to his feet, Chewie as well, carrying a not-quite-rebuilt Goldenrod on his back (which would have almost been funny if they weren’t in such a serious situation), as well as Leia, who looked almost like a ghost she was so pale and pinched (and Han felt his heart ache for her. He knew he loved her already, but now, he was reminded of how much he loved her, how he would do anything to make sure that Ventress and her goons would never hurt her again, or anyone in their crew), and Ada, whose scars were healing (Han would give Lian the medic this; she wasn’t bad at what she did), along with Ben and Sabe, who had looks as if they were going to the gallows (as did Ada, for that matter. Han himself felt almost like he was going to the chopping block.  _After all this time, Han Solo, Captain of the Millennium Falcon, the fastest ship in the galaxy, finds nowhere else to run)_. They followed Ventress and the others out the door, and towards the carbon-freezing chamber. Han heard the faint hisses of steam, which sounded, in this moment, almost like those of some kind of monster, heard Goldenrod complaining about his current position as well as advising Chewie to not do anything stupid (which, at least in terms of the second half of it, was another time that Han found himself agreeing with Goldenrod. Unfortunately, Chewie, who had a big heart but could occasionally lack in the common sense department – and Han said this with all affection for his old friend – would probably try and pick a fight with the stormtroopers), as well as Ada, Leia and Ben saying some old Alderaanian prayers. Han couldn’t say that there was any god he particularly believed in or prayed to – he was not a man who did such things – but he did hope, at least somehow, there was some way to get around this. That Mara wouldn’t get to Bespin, along with Padme, Terminus and Kitster (those  _idiots_. Well-intentioned idiots, but still idiots). That they’d manage to get out of this in time.  
  
Unfortunately, it looked like they’d run out of luck.  
  
Ahead of them, in the eerie glow of the carbon freezing chamber that almost called to mind Bespin’s sunset (Han remembered one of the days when he had taken Leia out to see Bespin’s sunset, and her almost childlike wonder at seeing such a thing. How she had been amazed to see something that beautiful. Now it seemed like a month ago, not a day ago), Lando stood with his aides, as well as Lian. Lando looked like he hadn’t got much sleep last night himself, and more than that, he looked as if he was being eaten alive by guilt. His hair hung limply around his face, which looked pinched, and his eye still seemed to be healing a bit from where Han, in a rage, had punched him. Han would have felt sorry for him, almost felt tempted to feel sorry for him, but then he remembered Ada screaming as the Imps tortured her and beat her (even using forms of electric torture, Ventress branding Ada with her lightsaber – it was a miracle that Ada hadn’t almost died, Han thought, considering how deadly lightsabers could be – and a lot more), as well as what they did to Ben and Sabe (including one Imp cutting Ben across the forehead when Ben, being stupid and naïve and gentle, tried to persuade him that he wasn’t on the right path), and he hated Lando all over again. Lando could go on and on about how it wasn’t his fault and how he had no choice until he was blue in the face, but the truth was, it was his fault. If he hadn’t decided to rat them out to the Empire…  
  
The stormtroopers led Han closer towards Lando. “Well,” Han said, still seething with anger; he wished his hands weren’t still cuffed behind his back so that he could hit Lando again. “What’s going on…buddy?”  _You aren’t my buddy. Not anymore._  
  
Lando’s voice was grim.  _If he says “I had no choice” again, I may kill him._ “You’re being put into carbon freeze,” he said. “You and Sabe.”  
  
 _Oh. Wonderful._ There’d been some instances of people being put into carbon freeze, some who had actually died from it.  _I’m going to die._ Though Han didn’t show it on the outside, there was a prickling of anxiety in him, and more than that, anger.  _This is how I die. All this time, outrunning the Imps and they finally get me. It shouldn’t end this way for any of us. It shouldn’t._  
  
“What if he doesn’t survive?” Fett said to Ventress. “He’s worth a lot to me.”  
  
“The Empire will compensate you both if he dies,” said Ventress. She turned towards the stormtroopers. “Put him in!”  
  
The room erupted in chaos, Chewie howling and lashing out at the stormtroopers, sending them falling into the freezing pit, the Imperials attempting to subdue Chewie by hitting him with their batons and the butts of their blasters, Fett raising his blaster to fire at them only for Ventress to restrain him, Goldenrod trying to calm Chewie down, and finally, feeling like he was screaming over the noise, Han shouted, “Stop! Chewie! Stop! Can you hear me?”  
  
Chewie turned to look at him. Han turned towards Ventress. “I just need a moment,” he said. “Okay? Just a moment. Then you can do whatever you want.”  
  
Ventress’ face was impassive. Then, “Do what you wish. But your time is limited as it is, Solo.”  
  
Han headed towards Chewie, and the Wookiee made a sound that sounded like a whimper.  
  
“I know, pal,” Han said, “But the princess…you’ve got to take care of her. And the rest of these idiots.” He tried to smile, though it wasn’t easy considering the circumstances. “Someone’s got to look after these idiots.”  
  
Chewie laughed his old Wookiee laugh, but it sounded weak.  
  
Han gave him a quick hug, and Chewie practically crushed his ribs. “Easy there, pal,” he said. “Easy.” Finally, Chewie let him go, and Han said, “I’m going to be okay, pal. It isn’t over.” And though he couldn’t say he completely believed it, it was enough to keep him steady, to keep the anger that threatened to well up, the anger that he could do so much more, that it wasn’t fair that he finally got caught and not only that but people he had grown to like – even though they were idiots, they were lovable idiots, they really were – were going to suffer for it.  _It’s going to be okay, Chewie. It’s going to be okay, all of you. The Empire might have gotten us, but we’re not going to be beaten. We’re invincible, we’re legend, and we’re going to take them on like the kriffing legends we are._  
  
He turned to the others, embraced them as well, before turning to the woman who it would hurt the most to say goodbye to.  _Leia._ He hadn’t expected to love her when they first met on Tatooine, but he did. And it would hurt the most to say goodbye to her.  
  
She drew him into a kiss, a passionate, almost desperate kiss that was almost a protest of what was happening around them –  _it shouldn’t end this way_  – before the Imperials dragged him away. As they did, Leia said, quickly, “I love you.”  
  
“I know.” She didn’t need to tell him. He already knew.  _And I’m going to be back, Princess. Just you watch me. We’re all invincible. We are legend._  
  
He stepped towards the carbon-freezing pit, turned to look at Sabe, who was with him. “Well,” he said, turning to her, “Looks like this is the end of the road. For now.”  
  
“For now,” said Sabe, but Han could tell that she was worried. She didn’t show it outright, but Han could tell that she was scared for Terminus. And for Mara, and for Ben. Just like she’d always been.  
  
He put a hand on her arm. “They’re going to be okay,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Maybe it was damn fool optimism, maybe he was fooling himself. But they would get out of this. Sooner or later, they’d have a burst of a miracle and get out of this. Maybe not Han or Sabe, but the crew? Yeah. Han had faith in that.  
  
He stepped onto the platform. The platform dropped, dizzying, Han felt a sudden chill go over him that quickly turned to ice covering him, ice colder than even Hoth could even think of being, and he remembered, remembered everything from the earliest moments of his childhood to meeting up with Chewie to everything before that, all of it seeming to flash before his eyes in a blur, and then there was nothing at all. Nothing but darkness, blackness, and a faint, ridiculous hope that faded quickly as Han fell into something almost like a long sleep, not death, but mere unconsciousness, that somehow, there’d be a swerve of luck, some sort of miracle out of nowhere that would save the day.  
  
 _We are invincible. Not even the Empire can hold us back. Everything might have gone to poodoo, and Lando might be a traitor of the worst order, and things might get even worse before they get better, but we’re tough, we’re invincible in the end._  
  
 _We are Rebels. We are tougher than a dewback’s hide. We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we weren’t._  
  
 _We are legend._


	19. Chapter Nineteen: To A Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lando and co. (minus Han and Sabe) manage to escape, and Mara walks right into the krayt dragon's lair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Was originally planning to have Padme, Vader, Terminus and Luke accompany Mara, but I figured I'd cut them off. I am a bit disappointed, especially considering that it presents an opportunity for Vader and Terminus to have to fight Ventress, but at the same time, I think it does definitely raise the jeopardy for Mara, having to face Ventress alone. I think it's one of many reasons Empire Strikes Back did that with Luke when he faced Vader -- just to increase that sense of jeopardy. Especially considering that at this point, Luke is skilled, but he doesn't quite have the skills to defeat Vader (including, of course, the new information he has in Return of the Jedi, where he can sort of plant the seeds of doubt in Vader and try and turn him away from the Emperor's influence). So we worry a bit about him. I think that sense of isolation in fiction, having to go up against the enemy alone definitely increases suspense, especially when the villain is a lot stronger than the hero. In Ventress' case, she's pretty good at lightsaber combat and knows how to get under Mara's skin. In Mara's case, she's skilled, but she's still a fledgling Jedi, not quite in control of her emotions, and the fact she just recently started training at twenty two (according to the canonical Star Wars timeline, Luke was nineteen in A New Hope, twenty two in Empire Strikes Back -- as ESB takes place three years later -- and twenty three in Return of the Jedi -- as ROTJ takes place only a year after ESB. Wasn't even intending it, but Mara's age here matches up pretty well with Luke's in canon) probably makes things more complicated. I guess I can also understand a little better why the Jedi separate kids from their parents as infants (even though I still disagree with it. Call me a bit too soft-hearted for my own good here); from their point of view, it makes the Jedi easier to train in order to get their emotions under control (and considering one aspect of the Sith is getting under a Jedi's skin in order to make them lose, turn them, etc., learning to get their emotions under control is no doubt important for a number of reasons), as well as being able to learn all the skills they need (in contrast to, basically, just taking the accelerated course when the trainee is, say, an adult. Revan's definitely an exception along with Luke, and there were some extenuating circumstances revolving around that. And in the case of the Exile training her crew...well, they weren't exactly conventional Jedi in the first place. So there are exceptions, but probably with some extraordinary circumstances behind all that).
> 
> Anyway, my apologies for the rambling (call it something I just realized posting this). Hope you enjoy.

It was later, much later, after the initial hissing of the carbonite chamber like some sort of monster – in the gloom of the carbonite freezing chamber, the machine itself seemed to hiss like some sort of monster – that they retrieved the now-frozen body of Han Solo from the pit. And seeing it, hearing Chewie’s howl, knowing once more that he was the one who helped do this, he was the one who betrayed Han like this, was enough to make Lando’s heart ache for just about everyone involved. Threepio was going on about how Han would no doubt be just fine “if he survived the freezing process”, and if Lando had less self-restraint, he would have told off Threepio (but gently) that talking about the matter of scientific stuff wasn’t –  
  
Though in a way it was. Just to make sure that he hadn’t condemned Han to death. That there was still a way to save him.  
  
“Well, Calrissian,” said Ventress, “Is he alive?”  
  
Lando adjusted the knobs, checking for heat, for vitals, for anything important to make sure that, indeed, Han was all right. Then, “He’s alive. And in perfect hibernation.”  _Thank the stars._ Perhaps in a way there was still a way to get him out of there. It would be hell for Han once he got out – carbonite freezing, especially prolonged periods tended to lead to feelings of nausea, difficulties with vision, and a lot more, but Lando could probably help him out with that – but at least they had a chance.  
  
Perhaps he was vainly clinging to hope after everything that had happened. But even so…  
  
Ventress turned towards Fett. “He’s all yours, bounty hunter,” she said. She turned to Sabe. “Now, Sabe Naris, Queen of Naboo,” and Lando could swear that he heard mockery in her tone, as if she was using Sabe’s former position as Queen of Naboo as an insult, “It’s your turn.”  
  
Sabe didn’t even weep even as she said goodbye to the others, who were protesting, yes, but they seemed more subdued than when Han was originally going to be frozen. As if they had become resigned to this. And Sabe hardly wept – she kept that same stiff upper lip that Lando could only associate with someone who had been a leader for quite some time, and stepped onto the platform. The platform lowered. Again that growing feeling of dread. Again the hissing from the carbon freezing chamber like some sort of monstrous beast. And again, retrieving Sabe’s now-frozen body from the carbon freezing pit, again with help from the Ugnaughts, and making sure that her vitals were all right. In contrast to Han’s carbonite block, Sabe herself looked almost peaceful and serene, as if she could have been carved from marble. Lando didn’t know whether to admire her or be unsettled. Perhaps both? But mostly admiring her, if only for her courage, and her strength.  
  
“She’s alive,” Lando said. “Also in perfect hibernation.”  
  
“Excellent,” Ventress said. “You’ve done your job well, Calrissian. Escort the others to my ship – ’’  
  
“My lady,” Lando said, trying to keep his calm, “With all due respect, you said that they’d be left in the city under my supervision.”  _And with all due respect, you’re a kriffing lunatic._  
  
“I’m afraid there’s been a chance of plans,” Ventress said. “Now, Calrissian, escort the others to my ship.”  
  
As Lando did so, he turned towards Leia. “I really am – ’’  
  
“Save it,” Leia snapped. “I don’t want to hear your apologies, Calrissian.”  
  
So they continued on, completely silent, towards the  _Executor._ Except, in the back of his mind, Lando was already thinking up a plan. Because he would be damned, he thought, if he turned them over to Ventress and the Emperor. He wasn’t about to let Bespin fall into Ventress’ hands, or any of these people, these fundamentally good, wonderful people.  
  
He’d gotten them into this mess.  
  
Now it was time to get them out.  
  
***  
  
It was once they landed on Bespin that Mara finally saw what had happened. She had already felt something terrible happen to both Han and her mother, something terrible to the point that she was screaming in the transporter, and Padme was trying not to cry, and Terminus – Terminus wasn’t crying, but one could tell just by listening to him that his heart had been ripped out. And Vader had screamed something about wanting to kill whoever did this, before Padme had tried to calm him over the communications system in the transport. Luke, meanwhile, had been confused; he wasn’t a Force user, he didn’t understand. Now, Mara saw for herself, and her heart ached.  
  
Han, along with her mother, had been frozen in carbonite. Her mother was frozen in a sort of serenity, as if she had been carved from marble, but Han himself looked as if he had been clearly in agony, his face almost contorted in pain, hands pressed against the carbonite in some sort of warding off gesture. And Mara watched, shocked, feeling almost as if an airlock had opened in her stomach.  
  
“I’m sorry, Mara,” Padme said. “I’m so sorry.” Luke, meanwhile, looked furious, and Vader just as much. Terminus seemed calm from an outsider’s perspective, but Mara could sense how angry and how grief-stricken he was. For Han, whom he had grown to like a bit, and for his wife.  
  
Mara took a deep breath. They couldn’t just rush after the stormtroopers. That would be foolhardy. But nonetheless, they had to find a way to keep –  
  
Unfortunately, any plans of subtlety were interrupted the moment two stormtroopers came around the corner, shooting at Mara and the others. Mara shot at them, felling them, and they ran around the corner, shooting when they could, trying to negotiate when they could (which usually failed) until finally reaching where Leia and the others were.  
  
Leia turned towards Mara in alarm. “Mara, don’t! It’s a trap!” One of the soldiers pulled her around the corner, but she had plenty of time to lean her head back and scream, “It’s a trap!”  
  
Silence.  
  
“So it is a trap,” Mara said. “But traps can go both ways, can’t they, Padme?”  
  
“They can,” Padme said. “Just be cautious. If you’re not, I can only sense heartbreak for all of us up ahead.”  
  
“Well,” Mara said, “I figured that.”  
  
It was in the anteroom that the first sign of things going wrong showed, because Artoo was cut off. Then, Padme, Terminus and Vader.  
  
And for all Mara tried in vain to get the door open, she couldn’t. Getting the door open was worse than useless, because it had been magnetically sealed off. As the platform took her into what she recognized as a carbon-freezing chamber, and she drew her cloak further around herself to try and ward off the chill, she put her blaster away, looking around at the eerie blue and orange glow of the carbon-freezing chamber, and drew her lightsaber. Because she could sense something. A Force presence, hot to the point it felt almost like the Tatooine suns were bearing down on her…  
  
Then a voice spoke. A voice Mara had heard before, on Mimban, not so long ago. “The Force is indeed with you, Kenobi. But you are not a Jedi yet.”  
  
Ventress, dressed in a black cloak, a menacing figure amidst the hissing mist of the carbon freezing chamber. Her eyes, seeming to glow faintly, almost yellow in nature.  
  
And Mara knew that in this chamber, though she hardly knew the details at the moment, the shape of her future was about to be decided.  
  
She stepped up towards the platform, where Ventress’ face seemed awfully pale in the light of the carbon freezing chamber, if still lovely in a way, and ignited her father’s blue lightsaber. Ventress ignited hers, and the battle began.  
  
***  
  
It was much later, long after Lando had managed to catch the stormtroopers off-guard, and take their weapons and hold them in the security towers, that he moved to undo Chewie’s handcuffs, as well as the others’. He knew that they wouldn’t quite trust them, but he couldn’t say that he was prepared for what happened next, when Chewie’s paws all but clamped around his neck.  
  
One thing you could learn from this, Lando thought, was that Wookiees had one hell of a strong grip. Even as he tried to wheeze out an apology, some sort of apology, Leia’s voice was scornful. “Of course! He had no choice, didn’t he, Chewie? He had no choice!”  
“Leia,” Ben said, softly, “What are you doing? Han and Sabe are being taken away. And what are you doing, Chewie? Shouldn’t we be trying to find them?”  
  
Leia turned to look at Ben. “You think we don’t care?”  
  
“Han,” Lando tried to say, but it came out as “ _Haaaa_ ”. He could already see spots dancing in front of his vision.  
  
“What?” Leia said.  
  
“It sounds like Han,” Threepio said, and Lando doubted he could be more grateful to the protocol droid at the moment. He finally managed to say, “There’s still a chance to save Han…at the East platform…and Sabe…”  
  
“Chewie,” Leia said, and Chewie let him go. Lando massaged his neck. It was fortunate Threepio managed to intervene when he did, Lando thought.  
  
“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” Threepio said. “After all, he’s only a Wookiee.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Lando said. “I’ve known Chewie for quite a while. I know what he’s like. I mean, he was scared for Han.” He grinned weakly. “He does have one hell of a grip, though; didn’t really know that.” He sighed. “All right. Let’s head to – ’’  
  
It was then that Lando saw them coming around the corner. Terminus, for one thing.  _Wonderful_. He raised his blaster, only for the woman in the group, an older woman wearing what looked like a Jedi robe, to say, “Don’t shoot! We’re here to help!”  
  
Silence. Then Ada spoke. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said.  
  
“We had no choice,” the woman said. “When Mara had that vision – ’’  
  
“Wait, Mara’s here?” Lando said. “Stang it…”  
  
“We know,” the woman said. “It’s a trap.” She sighed. “We couldn’t get the door to the carbonite freezing chamber open; it’s magnetically sealed. We were on our way to find you, but…we got separated.”  
  
“I can see that,” Lando said. “My name’s Lando Calrissian, by the way.”  
  
“Padme,” the woman said. “Padme Naberrie. This is Terminus, Kitster, Artoo, and Luke. We’re here to help.” She gestured to each member of the group. Lando had no idea why Terminus of all people was trying to help, but he supposed he could reserve questions for when they were out of here. Besides, he himself still had quite a lot of redeeming himself to do for the part he’d played in getting Han and Sabe into the hands of Jabba the Hutt and the Empire, respectively.  
  
“Nice to know all of you,” Lando said. “Now come on!”  
  
As the astromech droid, Artoo, wheeled along after them, Lando could hear him faintly chatting with Threepio, at least as much as astromechs can possibly do. “Well,” the protocol droid said, “At least you’re still in one piece! Look what’s happened to me!”  
They continued on to the East platform, where Fett was currently loading Han’s frozen body up the ramp and into the cargo hold. He wasn’t loading Sabe in; Ventress probably wanted Sabe for herself, in order to take to the Emperor. They got there, only for the ship to close up, and  _Slave I_  to blast off into the sky. For all Chewie fired at the ship, for all Ada and Ben and the others fired, it was a no-go. You couldn’t hit something that was increasingly far away.  
  
Lando turned to look at Leia, who looked downright devastated – the Princess was pretty good at not losing her cool completely, but in a way, she didn’t need to. All the shock and devastation and sadness was right there in her eyes, in the way she looked up towards the sky as if wondering how it could have come to this. “I’m sorry, Leia,” he said. “I am so sorry.” He saw Padme place a hand on Leia’s shoulder, trying to comfort her, but Leia herself didn’t seem to notice. She seemed almost completely numb.  
  
And it was then that Threepio managed to jolt them out of all of this. “Oh no! Chewie, they’re behind you.”  
  
More stormtroopers, practically coming out in a flood, heading towards the group. Lando spun around and fired at them, and after a while, the others followed suit, firing at stormtroopers left and right in their attempt to get to the turbolift and hopefully, to the  _Falcon_.  
  
They hadn’t managed to save Han at the East Platform like he’d hoped. But hopefully, they could make it to the  _Falcon_ and save him there. Assuming that his men had fixed the hyperdrive like Lando had hoped. But then again, his men had never let him down before. Why would they do so now?  
  
***  
Padme had prepared her for many things in terms of their duel, but in truth, Mara couldn’t say that she was quite prepared for Ventress. For one thing, Ventress was quite good in terms of lightsaber combat, enough to make Mara’s moves look almost amateurish in comparison. Compared to Ventress and the sort of grace that she had, Mara’s moves seemed almost like someone playing in their backyard with a fake sword, almost like she and Luke did when they were only kids.  
  
“You are skilled,” Ventress said, in her thickly accented, almost slithering voice, “But it won’t be enough to defeat me, Jedi.”  
  
Mara grinned, trying to look braver than she clearly felt. “You wanna bet, Ventress?”  
  
They continued to fight, Mara trying to at least improvise, avoid Ventress’ blows – Ventress was more of a combat-focused Sith (or Dark Jedi, Padme said. She wasn’t formally a Sith, not like Vader and Terminus. She was more of a Dark Jedi, a Sith who was not quite a Sith yet) so Mara supposed it was fortunate that she had not yet unleashed her Force Powers on Mara. It was near the carbon-freezing pit that Ventress leapt at her, seeming almost like some deranged beast out of hell, and it was then that Mara rolled in.  
 _Stang_. The carbonite-freezing chamber was already hissing, making noises that didn’t sound quite natural, Mara thought, that sounded more like some sort of beast hissing than anything else. And Mara knew that if she didn’t get the hell out immediately, the carbonite-freezing chamber would no doubt freeze her. She faintly heard Ventress’ voice, which sounded more like a rancor’s purr, Mara thought. “Disappointing,” Ventress said. “And to think that Padme holds you in high esteem. Would choose you as her pupil. The standards for the Jedi have lowered indeed.”  
  
 _You wanna bet?_ Mara shot out of the chamber in time, managing to cling to the pipes. Ventress tilted her head, looking up at Mara, climbing amongst the pipes. She slashed at Mara repeatedly, her lightsaber seeming to almost search for Mara, want to slash her to ribbons, but Mara managed to dodge in time. Finally, when Ventress had all but slashed the pipes to ribbons, Mara landed on the floor of the carbon-freezing chamber. “Not bad for a disappointment, is it?” she said, smirking.  
  
“I suppose they were correct about you,” Ventress said. “Still, you are barely a match for me.”  
  
They dueled with growing ferocity, Ventress clearly enjoying this too much (as if it was the best entertainment she’d had in a long while), Mara needing to get out of there, and defeat Ventress. Finally, she knocked Ventress off the edge of the platform, which was already trembling as it was.  
  
Ventress wasn’t gone, of course. She was far tougher than that, and had survived worse. Still, it meant that at least she could be slowed down, and maybe Mara could get out…  
  
No. Ventress seemed to have blocked off most of the exits. It looked, to Mara, like the only way forward was down.  
  
 _Careful, Mara, kiddo. If you’re not careful, Ventress might hand your butt to you on a silver platter. She’s not someone to be taken lightly, after all._  
  
It wasn’t like Mara had any choice. But nonetheless, as she headed deeper into the tunnels, she kept her hand tight on her lightsaber, trying to not be unnerved by the tunnels that stretched ahead while wondering where Ventress could possibly be hiding. The shadows seemed to stretch out in length, seeming to conceal Ventress, almost aid her. There was a part of Mara that couldn’t help but play on those worries, the idea that Ventress could be around that corner, or that, and wouldn’t it be great if the Dark Jedi was currently flattened against the ceiling, waiting to strike –  
  
But Ventress was not there. Of course not. Ventress was probably messing with Mara’s head on purpose. Mara took a deep breath. In truth, she was already nervous about all of this, but she wasn’t going to let Ventress mess with her mind.  
It was near one of the round windows that Ventress reemerged, cold fury and determination in her face, her eyes, ice blue, blazing with a sort of hatred Mara doubted was possible for just about anyone, and the duel resumed. It wasn’t just the matter of lightsabers anymore; Mara wondered if Ventress was just going easy on her at first before she tossed bits of machinery at Mara. Mara managed to fend them off, though a few of them hit her, no doubt leaving some pretty big bruises (Mara supposed she was lucky that they didn’t break any bones), before a lucky shot hit the window.  
  
The wind blew in, whipping at Ventress’ cape, though the Dark Jedi managed to cling to another bit of machinery. Mara clung as well, with all her might, before the wind tore her away from the machinery, and she fell through the window, threatening to be sucked into whatever hell lay below Cloud City and its machinery.  
  
She clung to the ledge in time, swinging upwards – it was lucky that her lightsaber didn’t fall as well. She took a while to catch her breath. Ventress, for the moment, had slunk back into the shadows, no doubt, and she edged along the side of the ledge as the wind began to die down at least for a moment – it would start up again, this Mara was certain of – ready to get back to dueling her foe.  
  
***  
  
They managed to make it round the corner towards Landing Platform 327, shooting at stormtroopers whenever they could – Ben, of course, setting to STUN, and the others in the group…one good thing about having new people in the group, of course, was the fact that they were damn good shots – only for the door to slam in their face.  
  
“Stang it!” Luke, the blond-haired kid, who seemed probably in his early twenties at least; he definitely looked the part, the sort of fresh-faced kid who’d seen some combat, but not enough to become seriously grizzled. “We were nearly there!”  
  
“Easy there,” Lando said. “I’ll try the door.”  
  
He punched at the door’s control panel. Of course, a no-go. “Looks like Ventress changed the security codes as well,” Lando said. “She’s good. Damn good. I’ll give her that.”  
  
“She wasn’t quite like that before,” Padme said. “She was competent, yes, but we managed to outwit her before. I suppose war’s made her more desperate.”  
  
Threepio chimed in. “Artoo! You can use your abilities to override the security systems!”  
  
That was one of many benefits of having an astromech in the party, Lando thought. When in doubt, override the security systems.  
  
While they held off the wave of stormtroopers that seemed to be coming in constantly, Artoo worked at the control panel. It was later when Lando heard a sudden squeal that he turned to look at Artoo in alarm, who appeared to have stuck his arm in a power socket instead of the terminal as he had obviously been going for and had gotten a nasty shock for his troubles. Padme ran towards him, along with Kitster. “Artoo!” she said. “Are you all right?”  
  
A forlorn  _dwooo_ , followed by a series of angry beeps; Lando couldn’t say that he knew what Artoo was saying, but he could only suppose that it was the astromech equivalent of cursing from Padme’s raised eyebrow as well as Threepio’s “Oh my! Artoo-Detoo, where did you pick up such language?” and Kitster clearly trying not to laugh despite how Artoo was smoking badly by now.  
  
Lando sighed and rubbed his temples. “Look,” he said, “We probably got the wrong door. The terminal’s probably across the hall or something. Follow me.”  
  
The others did so, all while Threepio tried to justify to Artoo that it really wasn’t his fault, that he was an interpreter, that he could hardly know a power socket from a computer terminal. They fought off stormtroopers all the way, and when they finally reached the terminal, Lando sighed in relief. They could get the  _Falcon_ , and hopefully get everyone off Cloud City as well; now that he had ultimately ended up betraying Ventress and her goons, Ventress would no doubt set Cloud City on fire once she had captured Mara.  
 _Mara._ Lando couldn’t say that he was too familiar with the young woman other than her Holonet appearances, usually promoted as the unofficial “mascot” of the Rebel Alliance, but he knew what the Empire did to their prisoners, and it was far from pretty. What he had seen with Han and company was proof enough of that. He didn’t want to think of what would happen to Mara once Ventress had her in her custody, or Sabe for that matter. He couldn’t let that happen. Neither of them.  
  
While Artoo focused on getting the door open, all while Threepio berated him for his perceived incompetence, Lando contacted Lian over the comm system. “Lian,” he said, “Are you there?”  
  
“I am, sir.” Lian herself sounded harried, almost stressed and tense and on edge.  
  
“Get everyone out,” Lando said. “We need to get them off Cloud City before more Imperials arrive.”  
  
“I’m on it, sir,” Lian said. “We’ve managed to get the others on the transports. It’s fortunate.” She sighed. “How are you, Lando?”  
  
“We’re going to have to hijack the  _Millennium Falcon_ ,” Lando said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Lian, I know,” Lando said. “But Han and Sabe are going to be taken into custody. I know I shouldn’t ditch you guys in a time of need, but…” He sighed. “Han and Sabe are in danger, and they need us. All of us. I failed to save Han at the East Platform, we all did, but we still have a chance right now and we have to take it.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I understand, sir,” Lian said. “I don’t like the idea of you being separated from us, but…I understand.”  
  
“You’re in charge of the refugees, along with Lobot and the others, until I get back,” Lando said.  
  
“When?”  
  
“When all of this is over,” Lando said. “I’ll meet you at the rendez-vous point. Good luck, Lian. I’m counting on you.”  
  
“Good luck to you too, sir,” Lian said. “Lian Serra out.”  
  
The transmission ended. Lando turned to look at the others. “Lian’s going to be heading the evacuation of Bespin,” he said.  
  
“Who?” Padme said.  
  
“My medic. She’s young,” Lando said, “But I have faith in her. That and Lobot’s going to be helping her out with things.” He sighed. “It’s only fortunate we managed to get them to the transports.”  
  
“It is,” Padme said. “Come on; Artoo got the door open. We should get going.”  
  
They headed towards the  _Falcon_ , shooting at stormtroopers that flooded their path all the way, making their way up the  _Falcon’s_  ramp; Leia was shooting at stormtrooopers with a sort of fury that was enough to terrify Lando. She was beautiful in her fury, and impressive, but nonetheless, it was terrifying to witness. Finally, Padme spoke, placing a hand on Leia’s hand clutching the blaster. “Leia!” she said. “It’s all right; you can stop. We need to go.”  
  
Leia merely nodded, the anger seeming to die down, only to be replaced with a sort of reason that seemed stoic in nature, even almost cold. They headed up, Chewie occasionally bumping Threepio against the top of the  _Falcon_  as the protocol droid protested, and once they were safely inside, managed to mutter to Artoo about how he thought “that hairy beast” would be the end of him. Lando almost chuckled, but became more serious. They needed to find Han, and more than that, they needed to find Sabe, wherever she was. Ventress would probably want to keep her somewhere safe, maybe on one of her shuttles or so…  
  
Except Ventress hadn’t blasted off yet. She was no doubt still dealing with Mara. Lando could sense a sort of tension in Terminus before the man spoke. “What about Mara?” he said, and though his voice was the same rumbling, impassive sort of sound it just about always was – which only served to make it all more unsettling, in Lando’s opinion – Lando could still sense how anxious he was. But why would he care? He and Mara used to be enemies, after all, and what was he doing on the side of the Rebels anyway?  
Lando sighed. “We’re going to come back for her,” he said. “Trust me.”  
  
“I only hope it will not be too late,” said Terminus.  
  
In truth, Lando couldn’t say he knew. But it was one of those things you couldn’t quite say to your new group of friends who you’d taken over as a temporary Captain considering the actual one was encased in carbonite; saying “I don’t know” was not a way to instill confidence in your group when they needed it most. So instead he said, “We won’t be too late. Not on my watch”, all the while hoping that he was right. 


	20. Chapter Twenty: The Edge of Light and Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: That was one hell of a chapter to write. Mara having to make the ultimate choice, etc. -- that was some pretty powerful stuff to write.

Bespin seemed quiet for the moment considering the wind seemed to have died down.  
  
Mara edged along the gantry of Bespin, careful not to fall off the building – already, she couldn’t help but wonder who designed this thing; just about anyone could fall to their death if they weren’t careful – back towards the entrance. She could already feel Ventress’ presence; her Force perceptions weren’t as refined as, say, Padme’s or Vader’s or Terminus’, but nonetheless, she could feel the heat of Ventress’ presence, in the shadows, lurking. She reentered the building, gripping her lightsaber, on guard for Ventress.  
Ventress lunged from the shadows like a krayt dragon attacking her prey, attacking with a sort of grace and aggression that nearly sent the lightsaber spinning from Mara’s hand. They fought ferociously, neither one of them willing to wield ground, Mara remembering a bit of what Padme said about the matter of Djem So and how it could possibly wield off opponents like Ventress ( _“Ventress is skilled in lightsaber combat, but there are parts where her form is sloppy. That’s where you can find an advantage.”_ ) and using that to get in a few strokes at Ventress. The Dark Jedi knocked her to the ground, nearly knocking the lightsaber from her hand.  
  
“Padme has taught you well,” said the Dark Jedi, looming over her almost, Mara thought, like some sort of angel of death figure. “Perhaps she was correct about you. But it’s time to accept your defeat, Jedi. You will fall, much like those before you.”  
  
Mara grinned. “Not this day.”  
  
She got to her feet, continuing to duel Ventress. They fought, Ventress fighting with her same old ferocity, Mara deflecting her the best she could, even managing to scar Ventress across the right eye. Ventress snarled in fury, lashed out at Mara –  
\-- and a searing pain went through Mara’s arm. She gritted her teeth in pain as she watched her arm toppling down into the reactor shaft, the lightsaber going with it. Her father’s lightsaber. One of the best remnants she’d once had of him. _Father’s going to be furious._ And even that, the idea of the possible scolding she was going to get from Terminus and Padme and others assuming she got out of this, was the least of her problems.  
  
Mara knelt on the gantry, badly bruised, battered, glaring defiantly up at Ventress all while feeling a sense of dread. Ventress had defeated her. It didn’t take a genius in order to know what happened next. Torture. Execution. And Mara had no desire to face any one of those, not today.  
  
“You’ve lost, Jedi.” Ventress’ voice was almost gloating. “You’re just like the rest of your kind. Weak, pathetic, defeated by your own cowardice.”  
  
“Kriff you,” Mara said.  
  
Ventress ignored her. “You are made for so much more than the Jedi,” she said. “You are Terminus’ offspring, are you not? His curse still runs strong in your veins.”  
  
“He’s not Dark anymore,” Mara said. “He’s redeemed himself.”  
  
“Even he cannot escape his destiny forever,” said Ventress. “And neither can you. Come, stand with me. We can overthrow the Emperor together, and you can make things as they should be.”  
  
By now, Mara was edging towards the reactor shaft. It was risky – she didn’t know if it would be a good escape or a good route to her death. The latter would make one hell of a tombstone. HERE LIES MARA KENOBI. DECIDED TO DEFY VENTRESS WITHOUT ANY REGARD FOR COMMON SENSE, BUT HEY, POINTS FOR EFFORT, RIGHT? – but if she had to, she would find a way out.  
  
“Me?” By now, Mara was all but clinging to the reactor shaft for dear life, and the wind had started up again, tearing furiously at her clothes, stinging at the nub that was now her arm.  _Well, at least Father and I have another thing in common._ If the situation wasn’t so serious, it would have been almost funny. “Join you? You’re insane.”  
  
“It is your destiny,” Ventress said. “It has been your destiny all along.”  
  
Mara’s blood suddenly went cold. She remembered the dreams all too clearly, the Emperor’s face looming in her nightmares, the vision in the cave on Dagobah when she had killed the Emperor, only to see her face. Was that what her dreams were alluding to all along? The idea of turning out like Terminus, becoming the Emperor’s pawn?  
  
No, not the Emperor’s. Ventress’.  
  
She looked into Ventress’ eyes, eyes that seemed to briefly glow yellow, and in those eyes, she swore she could see a glimpse of her future. Of burned cities, of corpses lying all around. Ventress was speaking, speaking of how they would make a truly better galaxy, to heal the damage the Emperor had done, but Mara barely heard any of it. Because in Ventress’ eyes, she could swear she saw fire. Raging fire. Fire and destruction and death, consuming everything.  
  
She looked up at Ventress. She looked briefly at the reactor shaft. She didn’t know what would happen to her, but she sure as hell was not going with Ventress.  
  
“Go,” she said, “To hell.”  
  
And she let go, letting herself fall down the reactor shaft. She swore she heard Ventress snarl in fury, cursing her, but Mara barely heard it as she fell down the reactor shaft, faster, faster, it felt almost like freefall, freefall in the dark, she had no idea where she was going, if she would land or crash, it seemed to be going faster, faster, faster  
  
 _faster_  
  
 _faster_  
  
and finally she found ground. Well, more precisely, the bottom of the shaft. Smoothness, purely durasteel. Mara barely had any time to marvel before it caved underneath her and she fell, down towards a strange bit of machinery that she found was the bottom of the city. She tried to climb back up, but found that it was no use. The door had already closed behind her.  
  
 _Stang it_!  
  
Mara hung there, trying to catch her breath.  _Great job, Mara Kenobi. Great job. You managed to escape Ventress in time, but now you’re stranded here, Padme and the others have no clue where you are, and you’re probably going to die here. Or get captured. You should have known that trying to be a hero was just going to go badly in the end. Great job; you must be so proud._  
  
She clung to the bit of machinery, and she reached out towards Terminus.  _Father,_ she said,  _If you’re there, come as quick as you can. I’m on Bespin, I’m at the bottom of the city._  
  
Her father’s shock was almost palpable. Mara could catch a bit of conversation over their link, him arguing with a dark-skinned man wearing a long navy blue cape, about going to find her, the man protesting they couldn’t leave Han and Sabe, and Terminus’ voice.  _“I will not leave my daughter here to die!”_  
  
He didn’t even seem to have said it intentionally. It seemed to have slipped out, in a rare moment of Terminus truly losing his calm. And it frightened Mara. The man stared at him in surprise.  _“Daughter? She’s your daughter?”_  
  
 _“Yes. I’ll explain more to you when we’ve gotten to safety, but please…save her.”_  
  
Silence.  _“All right then,”_ the man said, after a long while,  _“Let’s go.”_  
  
Terminus’ voice.  _Mara. We’re coming. I promise you. And we will get out of here._  
  
 _I know, Father._ Mara closed her eyes as the winds continued to pick up again. Bespin would have almost seemed beautiful from below, with its endless clouds that were tinted with sunset, if not for the dangerous circumstances she was currently in.  _I know_.  
Around Mara, the wind continued to howl almost like a banshee, tearing at Mara, and she clung to the bottom of Cloud City. She had been beaten this day, but she wouldn’t surrender. Not by a long shot. 


	21. Chapter Twenty One: One For The Good Guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things finally go right for Mara and co., but at a pretty heavy cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This chapter was I think one of the most difficult to write in terms of how much was going on. Hope I did well, at least.

It was later that the  _Falcon_  pulled up towards Mara, and it was perhaps the most welcome sight that Mara had seen just about all day. She inched her way down the bottom of the city, careful not to slip – in fact, everything about this was a situation that was precarious at best, though she had a feeling that it would be one hell of a thing to tell the others when they got back. Assuming they got back – and it was at the bottom that she fell into the arms of the same man who she’d seen in Terminus’ vision. She couldn’t say who he was, but he seemed friendly enough. “Easy there,” he said. “You okay there, kid? You look like hell.”  
  
Mara grinned. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m a bit bruised, but I’m fine.” The understatement of it almost made her want to laugh.  
  
He helped her down the ladder and into the main hold. “You’re Mara, aren’t you?” he said. “Terminus’ kid?”  
  
Mara nodded.  
  
“How the hell does Terminus have a kid?” the man said. “I mean…he’s the last person in the galaxy to have a kid.”  
  
“It’s a long story,” Mara said.  
  
“That I can see,” the man said. “I’m just going to get you to the medbay. You look like you got in a fight with a rancor and lost.”  
  
“You don’t know the half of it,” Mara said, trying to grin. It was the best thing you could do after a day that had been, honestly, as hellish as this.  
  
“I can imagine,” said the man. “My name’s Lando, by the way. Lando Calrissian. I’m the replacement Captain for the ship, considering…well, considering Han.” He seemed to become sad, even guilty-looking, almost as if it was his fault that Han had ended up in the situation he did.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Lando,” Mara said.  
  
The moment that Mara got into the main hold, she was practically swamped with people, Leia hugging her frantically, Terminus embracing her, Padme going on about how fortunate she was to be all right, Ada clapping her on the shoulder good-naturedly, Ben hugging her as well, Vader almost crushing her in relief, and more, until Lando pulled her away. “Okay, you guys,” he said, seeming to grin. “Hate to break this up, but she needs to rest. She’s not doing well.”  
  
Padme drew away with the others, then stared at her in shock. “What happened to your arm?” she said.  
  
“Ventress cut it off,” Mara said. She tried to smile, weakly, at her father. “Least that makes another thing that we’ve got in common, doesn’t it, Father?”  
  
“That isn’t funny,” Terminus said, darkly.  
  
“Right,” Mara said. “I may have also lost your lightsaber as well. I’m sorry, Father.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Terminus exhaled. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” he said. “I should not have reacted such towards you. But…you did frighten me.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Mara embraced him quickly before going off to the medbay. She wished she could spend more time with Terminus, but she knew – as much as she hated it – that she had to rest. She lay there as Lando, occasionally cursing all the while, hooked up the medical instruments.  
  
“Got it!” Lando said. “Finally.” He turned to look at her. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.”  
  
Mara smiled weakly. “I’m twenty two.”  
  
“Still kind of a kid,” Lando said, but he was smiling as well. The ship shook, and Lando sighed. “Hold on a minute. Looks like we’ve got trouble.”  
  
 _A lot of it._ Because Mara could already sense that a whole horde of Ventress’ ships were heading towards them. TIE fighters, Star Destroyers, and a lot more. And Ventress herself, reaching into Mara’s mind, beckoning to her to give in. _Come with me. It is your destiny to overthrow the Emperor. Join me. Let the others join us, and let us make things right at last._  
  
Images went through Mara’s mind, things such as bigotry against the aliens, against women, and more being wiped out of the Empire, slavery being wiped out, and so much more. Images that seemed beautiful, even almost fairy-tale-like, and which seemed almost tempting to Mara, even though she knew it was a lie. She could hear the faint sounds of her father’s voice, and Padme’s, in her mind, telling her to not give in, heard the faint squabble from Lando and the others as they realized, too late, that Ventress and her soldiers had deactivated the hyperdrive on the  _Falcon_ , the snarl of fury as Chewie shoved past Lando into the engine room. And all the while, Mara closed her eyes, trying to block out the feeling of Ventress’ voice in her mind.  
  
 _Join me, Mara. It’s your destiny. It’s always been your destiny._  
  
 _No,_ Mara thought.  _I won’t. I can’t. I simply can’t._  
  
In the engine room itself, Artoo, who was currently working on a badly damaged – to the point of seemingly being torn apart – Threepio, beeped something. Threepio’s voice. “The central computer told you? Artoo-Detoo, you know better than to talk to a strange computer. Ouch! Pay attention to what you’re doing!”  
  
Mara almost smiled, but the reality of the situation settled on her, heavy and disheartening, and she sighed.  _Chewie_ , she thought, as she listened to the sound of Chewie fixing the hyperdrive and occasionally roaring and hitting tools against the wall in frustration,  _You better find a way to fix this thing fast, or we’re all going to be doomed._  
  
She wrenched herself out of the bed, stumbled out towards the cockpit. Everyone stared at her in shock, and Padme began, “Mara, you’re supposed to – ’’  
  
“I know,” Mara said. “Kitster…meet me down in the engine room. We need to find a way to fix the hyperdrive.”  
  
“What are you thinking?” Vader said.  
  
“I don’t think Chewie’s efforts are any use,” she said. “We need Artoo to work on it.”  
  
They headed towards the engine room, and Threepio spoke. “Mistress Mara, it is good to see you again, but what are you doing out of bed?”  
  
“Good to see you too, Threepio,” Mara said. “But we need to borrow Artoo.”  
  
“With due respect, Mistress Mara,” Threepio said, “Artoo can’t fix the hyperdrive. Chewbacca’s already working on it. And he’s barely finished with me yet!”  
  
“Right,” Mara said. She couldn’t say she’d thought of that. “Kitster? Can you fix the rest of him?” Threepio was close to being finished, but had a leg missing, and still looked badly battered.  
  
Vader nodded. “With pleasure.” He knelt next to Threepio and began fixing him. Artoo, meanwhile, glided over towards the circuit panel and began to get to work as Threepio berated him. “I’m sitting here in pieces,” said the protocol droid, “And you’re having delusions of grandeur.”  
  
“He can do it,” Vader said, gently. “He’s never let us down before.”  
  
Threepio sighed metallically. “I certainly hope so.”  
  
But Artoo didn’t let them down. He continued working, until one circuit, one very crucial circuit, finally lit up. The ship tilted up unexpectedly, sending Artoo sliding into the pit with Chewie, who howled in surprise. Mara barely managed to regain her balance by clinging on with her remaining hand, and Threepio and Vader nearly slid across the floor. Gasps of shock from the cockpit, and then cries of joy as the  _Falcon_  shot, finally, into hyperspace.  
  
“You did it!” Threepio shouted.  
  
“Yes!” Vader practically punched the air, clenching it in a that’s-one-for-our-side gesture. Mara grinned. After their day of hell, to put it mildly, finally,  _finally_ , luck decided to come around their way.  _That’s one for the good guys,_ she thought.  _One for the Rebels. One for our side._  
  
Artoo beeped, clearly smug, pleased with himself. If droids could say “I told you so”, Mara thought, Artoo was certainly doing it right now.  
  
“Yes, Artoo,” Threepio said, “I may have been wrong about you not being able to do it. I underestimated you.” Another smug beep from Artoo. “Well, there’s no need to rub it in, Artoo-Detoo.”  
  
Mara couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. After all this, after what could be described as a Week of Hell, it was over. It was finally over. Then her laughter died down as she remembered how much they had lost that day. Han was in the hands of Jabba the Hutt by now, and considering his debt that Han still had yet to pay the Hutt, Han’s punishment would be less than merciful. And Sabe, her mother, in the hands of the Empire…  
  
Mara would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid. For Sabe, for Han, for so many people. What was about to be done to them. They had finally gotten away, and Mara had ultimately managed to refuse being Ventress’ servant in overthrowing the Emperor, but there was still a lot to be done. Too much. Saving Sabe. Saving Han. And confronting the Emperor, for the first and final time.  
  
Mara closed her eyes. She was afraid. And more than that, now that they were in hyperspace, she allowed herself to feel their losses for the first time that day, in full. She could feel it, growing heavily on her, and though she did not cry, she was almost tempted to. Her chest trembled, and she felt Vader’s arm slink around her shoulder, comforting her as best he could after the hell they all had gone through on different fronts, because in the end, that was all either of them could do.  
  
They were going to rescue Han, and Sabe. They would. And no power in the galaxy would stop them, for they were invincible, they were unstoppable, they were legend.  
  
But even legends had to stop. Even legends had to grieve. So Mara grieved, feeling the first hint of tears slip from her eyes, and Vader wept with her, and in the ship, others did their mourning in different ways, for all that had been done to them, for the loss of two of the crewmembers they cared deeply about, because in the end, that was all they could do.  
  
***  
  
Ventress knew she should be furious at Admiral Piett for allowing the ship to escape. Even as she turned to look at him, she could sense how fearful he suddenly became, as if fearing whatever bit of wrath she was about to fling at him. Just about everyone feared her temper, and for good reason. They feared Terminus’ wrath and Vader’s wrath just as much, and for good reason. They feared the Emperor’s wrath as well, and for good reason (the Emperor was far from a forgiving man, after all). They were right to fear her, Terminus and Vader as well. Fear, after all, was the best way to keep the soldiers in line, to remind them, in fact, that they were not the biggest rancors in the pit, that that distinction belonged to Ventress, Vader and Terminus (before Vader and Terminus betrayed the Empire, that is).  
  
But right now, she could not bring herself to blame the Admiral. The Admiral had failed, yes, but the failure was as much hers in terms of failing to convert Mara and the others (indeed, she had ended up locking them out if only to make preying on the fledgling Jedi easier) as much as Admiral Piett’s.  
  
The Admiral spoke up. “Lady Ventress – ’’  
  
“You are dismissed, Admiral.”  _There’s nothing I can say to you. I doubt there’s really anything left to say._  
  
The Admiral seemed confused – relieved, of course, but confused. “As you wish, my lady.” He left the bridge. Ventress headed to her meditation room, feeling her hands clench into fists; if she stayed on the bridge, it was likely she would have destroyed the bridge in the sheer fury she felt. Everything was going to plan, victory seemed to be in her grasp – of course things were going too smoothly to be true. She should have suspected that Calrissian would betray her. She should have suspected that Mara would refuse; after all, the girl was as stubborn and blinded as her father once was. And…  
  
Well, she supposed, she doubted she could have suspected that the  _Millennium Falcon_  would miraculously escape in time. She could only assume that the crew of the  _Falcon_  had purely luck on their side. Of course they did. The lot of them had mostly escaped her through luck after all these years; luck favored them, favored those who called themselves the heroes, while leaving others in the dust. Luck was far from equal, luck instead picked and chose who it wished to favor.  
  
It explained much about this strange series of events.  
  
Ventress settled into her meditation chamber. Of course, luck did not solely favor the heroes. After all, she had the frozen body of Sabe Naris, former Queen of Naboo, in the cargo hold of the  _Executor._ She would awaken in time, and though it would take much persuasion, Sabe would come around to seeing things her way. And perhaps, in time, her daughter would see reason, and her son, and many others. Including Terminus and Vader, she thought. They would all see the light, and they would rule together, and make things the way they should have been, before the Emperor had lied to them.  
  
Ventress sat there in her meditation chamber and despite her loss of the  _Falcon_ , she could not help but smile, a sinister thing that came over her face, cold and almost threatening-looking in nature. Yes. This search was far from over. She had not yet failed, like in the past when Dooku would chide her for her failures and even threaten to throw her aside. She had failed, but she had succeeded in taking the frozen body of Sabe Naris with her. In a way, she had won, and the Rebels had still lost. A strange paradox, but it was there nonetheless.  
  
Ventress’ smile widened into an almost nexu-like grin. She would win this war in time. And in time, the Kenobi girl and her friends would see things her way, and the galaxy would be theirs. The Imperial fleet would flock under her banner, not the Emperor’s, as would many other planets.  
  
And perhaps, in time, Ventress would shape this galaxy the way it should have been shaped, before the Emperor had all but destroyed it. 


	22. Epilogue: Reparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara recovers from the events on Bespin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, that was a fun ride. A bit rough at times, but fun. Can't wait to finish this up next year!

_Mara Kenobi here. Haven’t exactly done a log in a while, but the medics have wanted me to get some rest in order to make sure that I’m well – even putting aside the matter of the schutta slicing my arm off (another thing I guess I have in common with my father, ha ha), she beat me up pretty badly. The medical droid says I’m lucky to not have any broken bones, as Ventress hit me with a lot of heavy machinery. And I’m still getting used to the matter of my new mechanical arm. It’s weird having one, I will admit; it’s taking a lot of time getting used to. Still, I can survive. I am tough, after all. Like my dad, and like other people around me._  
  
 _Mom and Dad were actually relieved to see me, although they practically cried when they saw what Ventress had done to me. I think Dad actually expressed a desire to take on Ventress himself and punish her for what she did, and Mom had to try and calm him down. They’ve been really worried about me, the matter of my mechanical arm, and Father seems to be pretty worried as well. I remember making a joke about us “matching”, sort of, in terms of mechanical arms – he took it a bit better than last time, but he still didn’t think it was really that funny. Honestly, I can understand. I mean, from what I can gather, I gave him quite a scare when I showed up on the_ Falcon _, looking like, as Lando said, I got in a fight with a rancor and lost. (Honestly, considering Ventress, is there really much difference?)_  
  
 _The mechanical arm’s working pretty well. The medical droid’s worried about there possibly being any “glitches”, like the fingers seizing up, but fortunately, it seems to have gone off without a hitch. Father admitted that he was pretty impressed with it, even talking about how much technology has progressed since the days of the Clone Wars. And I can’t disagree with him. We’ve definitely made a lot of progress, technology and medicine-wise. Maybe one day we can find a way where he can sustain himself without the suit, and heal the burn wounds he received. Padme’s been thinking about using her Jedi powers to heal him, but she says, as much as she wants to, it would cost a lot of Force energy in order to do so, considering how much there is. Father actually said that some of it wasn’t even Padme’s fault; the Emperor kept him this way so he wouldn’t be a threat. It was really Vader who managed to help restore him from the brink of death, so, I suppose in a way, Father owes him his life. If there was any more reason to hate the Emperor, I think I’ve definitely found one. I mean, he has all the powers of the Force at his disposal, all the technology he needs and yet he couldn’t even bother to help Father when he needed it most…_  
  
 _To be perfectly honest, I don’t think that my mechanical arm is the worst of what’s happened. It’s the matter of remembering everything they’ve done. What they did to the base on Yavin, what they did to Hoth, what they almost did to Bespin, what they did to Leia and the others, freezing Han and Mother in carbonite…I hate them for that. Perhaps not the individual soldiers, but the institution itself, and the rotten little bastard that calls himself the Emperor…yeah, I hate him. I can live with a mechanical arm. It still takes some getting used to, but I can live with it – hell, I think it’s a badge of toughness, in a way. Behold, I stood against Asajj Ventress and lived to tell the tale. But it’s what she did to my friends, what she did to all these planets, that I hate her for. Vader doesn’t want me to be too angry with her, and Padme doesn’t either, or Terminus, but I admit, it is hard. It’s hard to forgive her after seeing what she did._  
  
 _We’ve been going off to find Han and Mother. We’ve been able to find that Han’s in Jabba’s palace – of course – and Ada and Chewie have gone off to find him there (because Lando’s still working with the medic, Lian, as well as his other aides from Bespin to make sure that the refugees are okay. Mothma’s still working on giving them shelter. She said that she’s more than happy to put them under the Rebellion’s protection. “The Rebel Alliance will never turn anyone away who needs our help,” she said, “And this is no exception.”) but we’re still on the lookout for Mother, trying to pick up leads as to where Ventress is—it’s been months and I don’t think we know where the_ Executor _is, or where she hid Mother. She could be just about anywhere. I just hope that we manage to find her – all while I try and rest, do missions for the Rebellion where I can, and try to make sure that the others are okay. Leia’s still upset; she doesn’t show it, but it’s pretty clear that something in her died the day Han was frozen. I suppose in the end, she really did love him, and care about him. I mean, there were hints of it that day when she was arguing with him about the idea of him leaving. Padme’s still trying to keep us all together, because we do need her. Father’s quiet as well, but it’s clear that he’s still upset about Mother being frozen, and being unable to locate her. Vader’s upset and furious, as is Ada. Ben too, though he’s trying to keep it under control. And Lando…well, Lando’s trying to do the best he can. I kind of like Lando, actually. He’s not Han, but he’s doing a pretty damn good job of trying to fill in for him, as well as help out where he can. And making sure that the refugees from Bespin are comfortable. It’s clear that he cares deeply about them, and I admire that. He says that Ventress threatened them in order to make him comply in the first place, and I admit, even though it was half his fault that Mother and Han are frozen, I can’t help but feel sorry for him. It’s not like he sold us out for credits or something like that; Ventress was just damn good at knowing which button to press in order to make Lando comply. Man was in a difficult situation. And whatever his inadvertent role in all this, he’s trying to help us, which I think is more important right now._  
  
 _It’s not like I like all of what I’m doing now. It’s necessary, but there is a part of me that wonders if I should be out there with them, trying to find Han, as well as Mother. I suppose I’m going to have to wait for news from Ada, as well as Vader and Padme’s research (where they can find it, when they don’t have duties to perform)._  
  
 _And I will admit, I do have questions about the future. What we’re going to do when it’s all over, for example. If it’s going to be over. If we’re going to win this war. Things like that, even putting aside the matter of the fact that Han and Mother are frozen in carbonite and we have to break them out – preferably in some thrilling-heroics-from-a-holovid-style plan._  
  
 _I don’t know what’s going to happen to us. But I know that whatever happens, we’re going to face it, and we’re not going to falter. We are tough, after all._  
  
 _We are Rebels._  
  
 _We are heroes._  
  
 _We are legend._


End file.
